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A NEW NOVEL BY TBE AUTHOR OF 

“TEE SILENCE OF DEAN MAITLAND." 


Now Ready, in the January Number of 

THE NEW YORK FASHION BAZAR, 

, A NEW STORY, ENTITLED 

“THE REPROACH OF ANNESLEY. 

MAXWELL GRAY, 

Author op ‘‘ The Silence op Dean Maitland/’ etc. 


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"GUELDA 

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ALSO THE THIRD INSd'-ALLMENT C¥ 

“SUZANNE. ’ 

By the author of “A Great Mistake,” etc. A fresh '.n.i ..toinatlng novel 
of life in Rome and Naples. 

INTERESTING ARTICLES ON 

Domestic and Household Affairs, Manners; and Fashions, 

By MRS. MARY E. BRYAN, 

MRS. MARY STUART SMITH, 

MRS. N. S. STOWEliL, and others. 

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A TALE OF k\ OLD CASTLE. 

I ■ 

BY 

W. HEIMBURG. 

TBAlirSLATED BY MAKT STUAET SMITH. 


NEW YORK: 

GEORGE MUNRO, PUBLISHER. 


17 TO 27 Vandewatbr Street. 


Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1889, by 
GEORGE MUNRO, 

in the Office of the LibraHan of Congress, Washington, D. C. 


W. HEIMBUEG’S WOEKS 


CONTAINED IN THE SEASIDE LIBRARY (POCKET EDITION).* 


NO. NO. 

994 A Penniless Orphan. [ 1175 A Tale of an Old Cattle. 





A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


CHAPTER 1. 

A WOOD fire crackled on the hearth of the high-backed chim- 
ney in the Baroness Derenberg's drawing-room, and lent a 
sort of cozy, comfortably air to that apartment, with its quaint, 
old-fashioned furniture. In the deep recess of one of the win- 
dows sat a young girl hardly fourteen years old, gazing out 
into the fading twilight of the short winter day, and her deli- 
cate profile was sharply outlined against the clear background 
of the window. Her little hands were clasped, and her thoughts 
evidently far away. 

Mamma, said she then, suddenly turning her head with 
its wealth of fair curls toward the pale, slender lady who sat 
knitting in a chair by the fireside, “ mamma, Norman is 
again staying an unconscionably long time in grandma^s room; 
it will just hinder us from getting to the mill, and yet it is 
high time; for Norman has only eight days^ furlough, and 
four of them are gone already. He had promised me quite 
positively to go with me to-day. What must Lieschen think 
of his not having gotten down there yet?^^ 

The young girl had risen at these words, and drawn near to 
her mother, an expression of discontent and impatience rest- 
ing upon her childish countenance. 

“Just have patience, Nelly replied the mother, as she 
stroked her daughter’s blooming cheek. “ You kn9ir, if it is 
grandma’s wish, Norman must stay just as long as she chooses. 
I dare say grandma has many a thing to talk with him about. 
Exercise yourself in patience, my darling! We have so much 
need for it in life. Light the lamp! You know there is a 
great deal of mending to do for Ssaipian yet. ” 

The slight girlish figure, with its still childish contour, glid- 
ed almost noiselessly over the polished surface of the floor, and 
soon the lamp irradiated the room that now looked doubly 
cheerful, in its old-fashioned and yet comfortable appoint- 
ments. The baroness, too, arose and took her place at the 


8 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


large round table. Now the light of the lamp shone upon a 
pale, attractive face, on which, however, grief had left its im- 
press in many a deep-cut line. 

Her features were reproduced in the little daughter who sat 
opposite to her, whose blue eyes were at this instant sparkling 
underneath their long lashes, for in the corridor outside re- 
sounded a firm, elastic step. Immediately afterward the room 
door opened and a handsome young officer entered. Appar- 
ently about nineteen years of age, his countenance betokened 
the sunniest youthful spirits. Nelly darted forward to meet 
him. ‘‘Oh, Norman, how delightful that you are come! 
Even now we can go to the mill,^^ pleaded she, lifting herself 
up on tiptoe, in order coaxingly to fling her arms around his 
neck. “ 1^11 fetch my hood and cloak in a minute, for we dare 
not delay any longer; they never fail to have supper early at 
the mill. 

She was on the point of hurrying off merrily. 

“Nelly!^^ cried the young man, catching her by the arm, 
“ let that be now! It — is no more fit,^^ added he, hesitatingly. 

“It is no more fit?^^ The young girl looked up at her 
brother with questioning glance. 

“ No, Nelly. You must be reasonable; as a child a fellow 
can associate with any one he chooses to, because he is a child ; 
but that sort of thing will not do for an officer. 

“ Well, but surely you can visit Lieschen; you used, always 
to love to be together so much.^^ 

“ What, Norman said the baroness, “ surely you are not 
in earnest; they are honorable people, those millers, and hav© 
always meant well by you; it would be ungrateful — 

“ Dear me, mamma, replied he, his dark eyes flashing 
with indignation. “ But you must admit that they are un- 
cultivated people. Only fancy, if the miller should take it into 

his head to travel to B and have the unlucky thought to 

pay me a visit. 1 should be placed in the most embarrassing 

“ They are not uriSultivated people, cried Nelly, “ and 
nobody but grandma ever said so. She never could bear the 
Millers. 

“ Millers! There we have it!^’ laughed the young officer. 
“ Let every one stay in his own place! Even you, Nelly, will 
have to give up visiting there some day. Just let your first 
trained skirt rustle behind you, and then — good-bye, old Mil- 
ler^s LizT^ t 

“ Never!'" exclaimed the young girl, quite beside herself. 
“ I would run away to the mill by night, if they would not let 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 9 

me go in the day. Lieschen is my only friend. What reason 
am I to give for your not (jorning?^^ She burst into tears. 

A reason can be founds Nelly — but do not cry!^^ said her 
brother, soothingly. His voice sounded tender, exactly as it, 
used to do in earlier days when he had broken his sister^ s 
doll, and did not know how to comfort her. 

Oh, Norman, it can not be so,^^ pleaded she, casting up at 
him a look that was full of hope, you just wanted to tease 
me — we are going to the mill, are we not?^^ 

For one instant he stood there motionless; before his souFs 
eye appeared the well-known form of a little girl, such as he 
had seen it a hundred times before, Lieschen, Lieschen Miller, 
from the paper-mill down there isHhe hollow; she was looking 
at him-with those child^s eyes of sunny blue, those red lips 
parted. “ Come with me, Norman; let us go to auntie; she 
is to give us apples, and 1 have seen a bird^s nest in the park; 
come, Norman, come!’^ Mechanically he made a movement 
as though he would pick up his cap, which lay upon the J le. 
A ray of light from the lamp sti’uck a sparkling ring > i bU 
hand, in whose goldish green stone gleamed the be a 
was the armorial device of the Derenbergs; f ugitively 1 
scanned it, and impetuously he grasped his cap and diiv ,. 
upon a side table. 

‘‘ Don^t torment me!^^ said he, abruptly, and turning 

A long pause ensued; the young girl got up and res 
her former seat, bowing her head low over her work, b 
little fingers which guarded the needle trembled violent Ij 
from her eyes great tears fell down upon the white me 
upon which she was at work. The baroness sighed ani 
glance fell with a painful expression upon her son, wlio 
restlessly pacing the floor. The old rococo clock s1 
and began to play a long-forgotten love song; its swec t a . indy 
echoed pleasantly through the apartment, and yet ti n s'lcm e 
of displeasure abode upon these three persons, linked l; ^ ' 
as they were by bonds of tenderest affection. 

Norman, at last began the pale lady, ‘‘when did your 
grandmother give you the ring which you wear upon your 
finger?^ ^ 

He paused before the fire-place, and while he thrust the 
poker into the hot coals until the sparks flew fast and high, 
he said: “ This afternoon, awhile ago, when 1 was in her 
chamber. 

“ Do you know, besides, Norman, that it was your father^s 
ring?^^ 

Suddenly the young man turned around. “ No, mamma. 


10 


A TALE OF AFT OLD CASTLE. 


Grandma did not tell me that; she only spoke in general of 
the significance of the coat of arms, and — 

“ Well, my child, then I tell you so,^^ came from the baron- 
esses lips, and it seemed as though her voice b’embled from 
inward excitement. It is the ring which your grandmother 
once drew from the cold, stiffened hand of your father when 
he — lay dead.^^ The last words rang like a half -stifled shriek. 
As though utterly overcome, the speaker sunk back in her 
chair. 

“ My dear, good mamma cried Norman, who was speed- 
ily at her side, while Nelly, stooping over her, fondly pressed 
her cheek against the face that was streaming with tears. 

^ . .ot cry, dear mamma implored he. 1^11 hold the 
. 1 . .s high honor as a son can do who is proud of his 

. ,1; . lemory; I shall use every exertion to become just as 
- ; V ] as noble as he was."^^ 

rhc ay in these words and in the looks which he fastened 
• • ' * . weeping mother all the trustful confidence which 

the heart of an ingenuous child, the fullness of that 
lich sees the best m men in the person of a deceased 
But the effect of his words was almost withering. 
' • ^ -u oness’s wasted form started up suddenly erect, and 
. : i: ^' i^on her son as though still she saw him not, in ac- 
( i ' espair she cried, Oh! not that — anything but that!^^ 
' ima is sick,^^ said the son, hurrying to the bell-rope, 
(feeble Come back, Norman! It is over already, ” 
m to her side. She accepted gratefully a glass of 
id said, while she made an effort to smile: 

Iv'e frightened you, my poor children. The recollec- 
bur father’s death is even to this day a harrowing one, 
; when Norman is about to start out in life, I must 
ith you of that past which up to this time I have 
ought to avoid. You have doubtless often silently 
1,^^ continued she, after a short pause, that we 
)ad so simple and retired a life with the practice of so 
- economy. Alas! Norman, it grieves me not at all on 
int — only for your sake. You will enter life in cir- 
ces most embarrassingly straitened — all brought about 
i»oundless levity of your — She paused as though 
' ! , at herself, and broke forth into bitter weeping. 

Norman stood on the hearth with deeply furrowed brow, 
and looked across at the weeping woman; the sunny expres- 
sion of his countenance had faded away, as it were, and about 
his mouth were drawn lines of bitter disenchantment. 

When 1 first came to this place at your father’s side, a 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


11 


mere child of sixteen years/'’ resumed the baroness, “ I found 
presiding here splendor and gajety. For long years Castle 
Derenberg had been famed for its hospitality, and your grand- 
mamma well understood the art of living. Even then she v^as 
radiantly beautiful; almost as fascinating as she is represented 
in that full-length portrait of her which hangs up yonder in 
the great hall, and she loved pomp and parade. To me she 
showed herself so amiable and aHectionate that I actually be- 
lieved 1 had found in her a second mother. Alas! those brief 
bright days were the fairest of my life, and when I was per- 
mitted to clasp you, Norman, to my heart, and you, Nelly, 
nothing v/as wanting to my happiness. But then came that 
frightful catastrophe: your father^s death; sharply and sud- 
denly misfortune broke in upon us.*’^ 

She shuddered and pressed her trembling hands against her 
temples, as though she would reassure herself that v'hat she 
was narrating actually belonged to a far-otf past. 

‘‘ After his death a trustee was assigned to me in the person 
of old Counselor Hellwig. Our affairs were found to be more 
than disordered — wherever the eye turned there were mort- 
gages, pawn-certificates, unpaid bills; unparalleled was the 
confusion in which your grandmother and I saw ourselves in- 
volved. How many sleepless nights, how many hours of 
carking care have been spent since then, and yet, despite all 
old Hellwig^s pains, up to the present time no light has come 
to dispel the gloom of that chaos. 

Do not be so excited, dear mamma,^^ implored the young 
officer; I have long known that our means were narrow, 
although, of course, I could not suspect that we were poor. 
But take courage! Surely better days will soon be coming, 
and grandmamma told me just now that matters could not be 
so desperate*" after all, since we have a right to expect a fine 
fortune from Aunt Stontheim.^^ 

Your grandmother has full faith in that inheritance, 
but — 

“ She thinks,^ ^ eagerly interrupted the young officer, that 
I ought to go and pay my respects to her before joining my 
regiment again. 

‘‘I have nothing to say against it, my child, and heartily 
wish your grandmother may not be mistaken; but it remains 

to be considered that the Derenbergs of K have just the 

same claim to that fortune as ourselves. The daughter of 
Colonel Derenberg, of the 6th Eegiment, has equally as good a 
right to it as Nelly and yourself. 

At this instant, Sauna, the elder baronesses old waiting- 


12 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


maid, opened the tall folding-door, and the old Baroness Deren- 
berg entered the room. Hers was a commanding presence; 
she held herself faultlessly erect, in, spite of the weight of some 
sixty years, and she wore her plain gray woolen robe with the 
same dignity and grace which had been hers when she was 
wont to sweep through the room with a long train of heaviest 
silk. Her full suit of still dark hair, smoothly brushed off her 
temples, was covered by a cap, from beneath whose delicately 
crimped border of yellowish old lace flashed forth great black 
eyes. Her whole air was that of the genuine aristocrat, and 
from every one of those finely cut features spoke out indomit- 
able pride. How old looked the sickly, grief -stricken daugh- 
ter-in-law in comparison with this magnificent-looking woman ! 

Norman hastened to 'meet her, taking from her a large book 
she carried in her hand, and then leading her to the fireside, 
where Sanna had already arranged several seats. Her grand- 
daughter had likewise jumped up quickly, and the pale lady 
was drying by steal fch the last tears from her eyes. 

What was the subject of talk here?^^ asked the old baron- 
ess, as she took her place by the fire and dismissed the waiting- 
maid with a wave of her hand. 1 heard something of the 
same ‘ rights as Norman and Nelly.'' 

‘‘We were speaking of Aunt Stontheim and that affair of 
the inheritance,^^ replied her daughter-in-law, also taking a 
seat near the fire, “ and that reminded me of the Derenbergs 

of K and the fact that Bianca of Derenberg has as good a 

title to the fortune as Norman and Nelly, 

“ Bianca! What an idea!^^ cried the old lady, shrugging 
her shoulders, “ that red-haired, scrofulous creature! Aunt 
Stontheim has, thank God! too good taste to make such a blun- 
der. Besides, as well as 1 can recollect, she had a very justi- 
fiable aversion to that braggadocio of a colonel and that 
ultra-blonde wife of his, whom he picked up in Heaven knows 
what corner of England or Scotland. She was a Miss Smith, 
or Newman, was it? Well, never mind, it was some obscure 
name. No, Cornelia, that is just another specimen of those 
groundless, far-fetched tales with which you torment yourself 
and others."^ 

There was something ironical in her tone, as was always the 
case when this proud woman addressed her remarks to her 
daughter-in-law. 

“ I only thought,^^ answered she, softly, “ that one could not 
with any certainty whatever — she broke off. “ Life neces- 
sarily brings with it so many disappointments, that really 
one — 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. ’ 13 

With excitement the old lad}^ now interposed: ‘‘Norman 
will have no trouble whatever in taking his peevish old aunt^s 
heart by storm, if he only sets himself to it, so that her truly 
princely fortune will fall to his share/^ 

“ What do you mean by that, grandma? You surely 
would not have me turn legacy-hunter, as the boys say? I 
shall meet her with all due deference, as becomes a gentleman 
in a lady^s society, but that is all — flatter and coax I can not; 
what she will not give me of her own free will she can 
keep!’^ 

In utter astonishment his grandmother drew herself up from 
her negligent posture, and her eyes, sparkling with indignation 
at this contumacious declaration on the part of her grandson, 
looked him full in the face. “ Could that be deemed possible 
from so yoiing a greenhorn?^^ asked she in a tone that she 
tried to make playful, but her voice quivered with anger. 
“ Eh, Norman? Have you laid aside respect for elders with 
your cadek’s jacket; and because you have worn epaulets for 
eight days, do you fancy that you are in a state to impart use- 
ful lessons to your grandmother, and scorn her good advice? 
You are quite too young to comprehend justly the relations 
into which you will now be thrown. Is it paying court to fort- 
une when one tries to win the heart of a lonely old kins- 
woman?^^ 

“Yes, grandma, said Norman, firmly, not a feature of 
his handsome face altering. “ Yes, it is paying court to fort- 
une; just so soon as we seek to win a man^s money as well as 
his heart — 

“ And extremely necessary it is, if one would not all his 
life-time sit and suck his thumbs in an empty castle, without 
wealth or infiuence,^^ wrathfully interrupted the old lady, 
drawing her chair back a little. 

“ I grant you this, grandma, I would never have used that 
strong expression if there had not been an heiress in the case; 
but since Bianca — 

“ There it is again with that Bianca! Do you know any- 
thing about her at all? Do you even know that she is still 
alive, the hateful creature? How fatal it is to pay any heed 
to that childish wisdom which crops out in perfection the mo- 
ment after confirmation! It is my particular desire, Norman, 
that you pay a visit to Stontheim; Til brook no contradiction; 
this very evening the letter announcing your coming shall be 
dispatched."^ 

“ Certainly, grandma. I"ll take the trip,"" said Norman, 
with cold politeness, “ just as soon as you choose."" 


14 


A TALE OF AK OI.D CASTLE. 


She got up; her haughty countenance was suffused with 
crimson^ and about the mouth was a look of inflexible ob- 
stinacy; never had the resemblance between grandmother and 
grandson been more striking. With flashing eyes and firmly 
compressed lips they confronted each other — neither bending 
to the other. 

“ You are to set cff to-morrow afternoon by the five-o^clock 
stage/’ said the old lady^ coldly and decidedl;f; then without 
waiting for the young man^s bow of acquiescence, she greeted 
her shocked daughter-in-law with a slight nod of the head and 
swept majestically out of the room. A painful silence reigned 
when the folding-door had closed behind the tall form of the 
old baroness. He who had dared thus to oppose the proud 
woman whose word was law for the whole of that household, 
stood by the fire-place, looking into the flames with as much 
composure and indifference as though nothing had happened. 
Nelly looked at her brother in amazement — he was no longer 
himself. Nobody spoke a word. After awhile old Sanna 
stepped into the room; she held a letter in her hand, and 
asked : 

Have you any errand, madame, for the village? Henry 
has to go for the mail; and it is snowing so hard that one mes- 
sage had best do for all.^^ 

The baroness declined her offer and the old woman hurried 
away. Norman meanwhile had seated himself at the table and 
was turning over the leaves of the book that he had just 
taken from his grandmother. 

Here 1 find something about our beautiful Agnes Matilda 
up there in our ancestral hall, cried he, joyfully. ‘‘Just 
come here, little sister! It is interesting — only hear!^^ 

The young girl drew near to him, leaned over the arm of 
'his chair, and looked with curious eyes at the yellow paper, 
covered with script by no means easy to decipher. He read, 
laboriously spelling, “ ‘ On the 30th of November, in the year 
1694, here at Castle Derenberg, were solemnly interred the 
remains of the high-born lady, Agnes Matilda, Baroness of 
Derenberg, Schuttenfeld and Braunsbach, also Countess of 
Krobitz in her own right, as coming from the house of Prance. 
The arrangements were all. made in accordance with directions 
written out by her own hand during her life-time. The 
noble corpse was placed in the hall next the chapel; the coffin 
being covered in the first place with a large white cloth, and 
over that a black velvet pall, with a cross embroidered upon it 
in silver thread; above that lay a silver-gilt crucifix, and upon 
each side of that were eight smaller ones, but at the he^d and 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


15 


feet were fastened, embroidered more conspicuously upon 
orangcrcolored satin, the twofold coats of arms of the Deren- 
bergs and Trauers. The coffin was borne into the chapel by 
the nobility resident in the neighborhood, who had often be- 
fore met together here on festal occasions. Next in order fol- 
lowed the six sons of the deceased, and then the deeply afflicted 
widower. ^ 

“ That is tedious, exclaimed the young officer, interrupt- 
ing himself, but here — listen further on. 

'' ‘ The Lady Agnes Matilda, Baroness of Derenberg, was 
a high-minded and prudent woman, who bravely stood % her 
husband in all his perils. She had a tall, graceful figure, and 
red hair, although, in sooth, that is no good sign, if we hold 
to the old proverb that has it: 

*• < Woman or steed, ’twere all the same, 

The pretty one is never tame. 

But let her be without deceit, 

Good fortune that most rare and sweet. 

Her crown of glory is her hair — 

If red the color, though, beware!” 

Yet for that matter she was more deceitful than the rest of her 
sex, and she was a rarely beautiful woman. A gentleman fell 
desperately "in love with her, and when she would not listen to 
the avowal of his passion, in desperation took his life (for 
which may God forgive him). She found him swimming in 
his own blood, before her chamber-door, which so frightened 
her that on the spot she fell into a raging fever, that brought 
her to the very verge of the tomb. But God in His mercy 
raised her up, and yet she is said never to have smiled again, 
and the gentleman, a Squire von Streitwitz, was buried here in 
the castle garden. ^ 

‘^What say you to that, dear mamma?^^ cried Norman, 
quite excitedly. I can well believe that for her sake a man 
might have taken his own life — hers is a wondrously beautiful 
face. I do wish that I could take her picture with me and 
hang it up in my own room at the barracks. She must have 
been a charming creature, that Agnes Matilda. 

‘‘Well, Norman!"^ smiled the baroness, “I should never 
have dreamed that your first infatuation would be for a dead 
woman. At all events, it is not a dangerous fancy. What 
think you of it, Nelly 

Nelly answered nothing. It seemed as though cheerfulness 
wei'e not to revisit that little circle. The young girl sat bend- 
ing over her work, deep in thought as to what excuse she could 
give Lieschen. Norman was again absorbed in the reading of 


16 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


his old book, and that fleeting smile no longer played upon the 
baronesses features. Now and then she drew her hand across 
her eyes, and sighed deeply, while every time that such a timid 
sigh reached her children ^s ears, simultaneously they turned 
their heads, and two pairs of sympathetic eyes rested for an 
instant inquiringly upon the mother^s troubled countenance; 
then each resumed his or her occupation. 

My lady will take tea in her own room,^^ said Sanna, corn- 
ing forward. ‘‘ She begs to be excused from appearing at the 
supper-table this evening; her ladyship has a dreadful head- 
ache. 

The old woman carried a waiter holding an old-fashioned lit- 
tle tea-pot and cup in rococo style. She was obviously in the 
act of taking her mistresses tea to her, and now stood in the 
door waiting for an answer. She cast an inquisitive glance 
upon the three occupants of the room, as though she would 
sift them to the bottom, and find out what impression this 
news made upon them. The lady dreaming by the fireside 
seemed not to have heard her words, and gave a start when her 
daughter said: We are certainly very sorry, dear Sanna, and 
sincerely hope grandma will soon be better. 

Is your mistress sick, Sanna?^^ asked the baroness. 

Indeed, she is,^^ replied the latter, and her great bony 
frame drew itself up to its full height, while she fixed her gray 
eyes, frowning from under their heavy brows, firmly upon the 
questioner's startled countenance. ‘‘ The baroness must have 
left this room sick, for she had violent palpitations of the heart 
as soon as she reached her own chamber. I have had to mix 
three powders for her already. I only hope it means nothing 
bad!^" 

There was a certain reproachful, impertinent meaning in 
this answer, less indeed in the words themselves than in the 
voice and expression of countenance, which caused the indig- 
nant blood to mount into the Baroness Derenberg^s cheeks. 

‘‘I regret it exceedingly,^^ said she with elevated voice, at 
the same time making a gesture of dismissal, ‘‘ and I hope that 
your mistress will be better in the morning. 

‘‘ Very well,^^ answered the old woman, and left the room, 
but her air and the expression of her features, as seen from 
under a starched and plaited cap, jaad become really malignant. 

Norman had sprung to his feet; and with fin shed face, looked 
after the disappearing servant. Norman, pray let her be!^^ 
cried the baroness. ‘‘ You would do no good by noticing her 
talk. She has always been so; like her mistress, she can not 
help showing her hot southern blood, and then she worships 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


17 


your grandmother. You know, Norman, that Sanna came 
here with your grandmother from Venice, so that she has lived 
with her. through those days of splendor, and now steadfastly 
shares with her poverty and privations. Sanna has many good 
points — such faithfulness as hers is rare enough — and you 
children, especially Norman, she loves above everything. 
Moreover, she is so old now one can not take very ill anything 
that she says. 

Norman made no answer, but picked up his cap. I must 
go into the open air for a little while, else I shall sleep badly, 
said he, apologetically, and kissing his mother^s hand he left 
the room. 

He then stood in the tall, cold corridor, and asked himself 
whither he actually would go. I must first fetch my pale- 
tot, thought he, and strode down the long passage to his 
room. He felt in such strange spirits to-day, the first time 
that an idea of lifers seriousness had crossed his young brain. 
To be sure, he knew that his family were in narrow circum- 
stances, but in genuine boyish fashion he had bestowed no 
thoughts upon the subject. Now his grandmother had spoken 
to him about it, and at the same time placed before him the 
prospective of a rich inheritance; but still there was an heiress 
in the way — a little, red-haired creature, as grandma called 
her just now. 

The beautiful Agnes Matilda came into his mind. How was 
it in that verse: 

‘‘ Her crown of glory is her hair — 

If red the color, though, beware!” 

Might not red hair bring peril for him, too? No indeed I 
he had no propensity to idealize. His grandmother had said: 

I build my sole hope on you, Norman, and the Stontheim 
inheritance,^^ and now he had answered her with that talk 
about fortune-hunting. But indeed Bianca, the little red- 
haired Bianca — there she was again — but Aunt .Qtontheim 
might divide between Bianca, Nelly and himself. Yes, there 
was the why out of the difiiculty. If not, though, all might 
yet turn out well. 

He was shivering, and stepping up to the hearth he threw a 
handful of sticks into the fire,whichr was burning rather low. 
Soon the flames caught at^e dry wood, then leaped up 
crackling, and cast a flickering, unsteady light upon the 
smooth and polished floor. Its reddish glow brought out in 
full relief the gilded carving of the old fire-place, and the eyes 
of the young man followed dreamily the windings of the oak- 


18 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


leaf garland that ran along under the cornice of the mantel- 
piece. In the center it formed a wreath around a shield, on 
which was inscribed a motto: 

Trust in God and do not fear, 

Soon will happiness draw near.*’ 

An old saying that, of times now long by-gone. 

“ Soon will happiness draw near,^^ repeated he in low tones 
once more. Could it be that he had never read those words 
before.^ How powerfully they lay hold of him in this hour — 
might not happiness return for himself too? He looked up at 
the magnificent stag antlers — all had been slain by Derenbergs, 
as proved the little labels marked with name and date, all in 
these forests, which had been partly sold, partly mortgaged. 
But it might be possible — why not? — that he should hunt 
there again, where his ancestors had enjoyed so many a jolly 
hunt. Away with forebodings! Life lay still before him, so 
attractive, so full of hope and, “ Soon will happiness draw 
near.'’^ Again sunshine, as it were, overspread his youthful 
countenance; his heart beat warm in his bosom, and he felt the 
spirit wherewith to breast even fiercest storms. Only forward, 
further out into the waves of life! The madder the surf the 
better! Be it pleasure or pain, 1^11 take it as it conies; a life 
without a battle is no life at all. 1^11 beg grandma’s pardon 
for saying that about ‘ fortune hunting,’ ” he continued. 

Neither shall mamma be so melancholy any longer. Why 
take such dark views of things? Even the little one hung her 
head,. yes, even so; but then it was for the sake of Lieschen, 
the miller’s little one. Bah! it is not worth talking about, and 
she will see it in the same light herself some day, she — ” 

He softly whistled a tune as he walked along the passage 
on his way back to his mother. 


CHAPTER 11. 

On the following morning Norman stood before his grand- 
mother with bright, cheerful aspect, having obtained from her 
his pardon. To be sure, she smilingly shrugged her shoulders 
when he expressed his view that the as yet unknown Bianca 
might share the heritage. “ You are a dreamer, Norman,” 
said she, mockingly, but withqpt offering any contradiction, 
and at the same time pointing with her slender hand to a stool 
at her feet. Sit down! I have several things more to say 
to you before we part.” 

The old lady’s chamber had retained its luxurious furniture. 


A TALE OF AInT OLD CASTLE. 


19 


and at the "first glance looked almost gorgeous. But to a 
closer observer ifc was manifest that the colors of the heavy 
damask were faded, and the silk frayed here and there, but 
despite this the curtains to doors and windows, the costly fur- 
niture and rich Smyrna carpet gave to the apartment an air of 
almost princely elegance. From the walls bright Italian land- 
scapes looked forth from their golden frames. These pictures 
were reminders of happy days, which the baroness had passed 
at Naples and Venice as the admired young Countess Luya, 
and with these reminders she forgot the comfortless present. 

‘‘I need not give you any hints as to your behavior toward 
Aunt Stontheim, Norman,"^ she began, prudently avoiding 
yesterday "'s crag. You will know how to deport yourself — 
bear her my most affectionate greetings, and say that I have 
become a tiresome old woman. 

I must decline this commission, grandma,^^ said Norman, 
gallantly. ‘‘ I can not possibly do such violence to my con- 
science. 

Well pleased, the old lady smiled, and lightly stroking his 
cheek, observed: ‘‘ Do not laugh at your old grandmamma!'’^ 

Norman kissed her hand. “ And what more has grandma 
to say?^^ 

‘‘Very true, there is one thing more 1 must warn you 
against. You are entering into life very early, and have in- 
herited the passionate blood of my forefathers. Enjoy your 
youth to^your hearths content, bub guard yourself against a 
serious love affair! The bride whom you bring home will have 
to combine much in her own person. She must have family 
and fortune, Norman — yes, a great fortune, for this is one of 
the few ways open to you whereby you may restore the lost 
glory of your house — and then that would be all,^^ she wound 
up. “ And if you would promise to write to me sometimes we 
should have nothing further to say to each other. 

The young officer smiled. “ Certainly, grandma, 1^11 write 
soon, for 1 shall have plenty of time, and do not disturb your- 
self on that last account. As to marrying, I can not possibly 
think of such a thing — why, 1 am but just eighteen years old.'’^ 
He laughed aloud; there was no longer even a trace of yester- 
day ^s shadow upon that merry face. “ Can you spare me 
now, grandma?^'’ asked he. “ 1 would like to go up into the 
portrait-gallery and pay a parting visit to the fair Agnes 
Matilda. See, grandma, there is one consolation 1 can give 
you already,''’ added he. “ If I do not find a young lady who 
looks like her, I shall not marry; for she is my heau-ideal of 
womanhood. 


20 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


Do you mean that red-haired Matilda?^^ asked the old 
lady ill great astonishment'. 

‘‘ Yes/’ nodded her grandson. I have a weakness for red 
hair. Apropos, grandma — may I keep the old book that you 
brought down-stairs yesterday evening?’’ 

“ Certainly; it is a family chronicle, and 1 have always 
meant it for you.” 

A thousand thanks! I’ll see you again at lunch!” So 
saying he kissed her hand, and immediately afterward the 
crimson folds of the porim^e vlosed. behind him. 

Whistling a song, he passed along the corridor and soon 
stood in the family portrait-gallery, before the likeness of the 
fair Agnes Matilda. The pretty head stood out from the dark 
background with almost plastic effect, and the luxuriant 
auburn, almost red hair, brushed back from the white brow, 
was almost hidden beneath a cap of silver brocade. From be- 
neath that fair forehead and those finely arched eyebrows, in 
strange contrast with the hue of her hair, hashed forth great 
dark eyes; with an expression of unutterable sadness they 
looked at the spectator, as dreamily, as longingly as though 
they sought after a lost happiness. A faint twilight prevailed 
throughout the vast apartment; Norman drew back the cur- 
tains from the nearest window, and now the rays of the cold, 
clear winter sun flooded the red hair of the beautiful woman 
with streams of light, until it looked as if made up of spark- 
ling golden threads. And again those eyes practiced upon 
him their old magic, those meditative, unutterably mournful 
eyes. 

Suddenly he heard a light step, and his sister’s little rosy 
band was laid upon his shoulder. 

‘^Is it here jon are hiding, Norman? We want to sit 

wn to table. Come, Norman! You will have to leave 
."ectly afterward, and I have not seen you this whole morn- 
ing.” 

He drew her to him. Just look at me full in the face, 
Nelly!” he entreated, at the same time gently raising her head 
a little with his hand. Are you pleased, or are you still 
angry with me?” 

Their eyes moistened as brother and sister looked each other 
in the face, but smilingly she shook her head. Angry? No, 
oh, no! But come on — it is cold here.” 

He took her hand and they moved toward the door; ere he 
would close it, though, he turned once more to gaze at the 
picture. 


A TALE OF AN OLD GASTLE. 


21 


** Her crown of glory is her hair — 

If red the color, though, beware.” 

whispered he to herself. 

Hardly an hour later, old Sanna stood at one of the windows 
of the upper coridor; she was watching Norman^s departure. 
He had taken leave of his weeping mother; he was just now 
crossing the castle yard, and Nelly followed him in her little 
thin cloak; she could not deny herself the pleasure of being 
near to her brother up to the last minute of his stay. His 
grandmother over again,^^ whispered old Sanna to herself. 
‘‘It does one^s heart good only to look at him. She held 
her hand over her eyes, in order to see him better. “ He is 
not going to fail, she continued to soliloquize, “let him 
knock at whatever door he pleases, the richest and fairest. will 
be his, and such ill-luck as his father had will never follow 
him. Oh! if my lady could only live to see things going on 
prosperously and gayly here at the castle! She would get 
young and pretty again. Oh! thou bleeding Saviour, how I 
would thank Thee on my knees for it!^^ 

Meanwhile brother and sister walked together down the lin- 
den avenue, and wondrously fair was the winter landscape 
that lay befoi’e them. At the lower end of the avenue glit- 
tered the snowy mountains incased by the trees, as in a frame; 
on one side peeped forth the village houses with their snow- 
covered roofs, from almost every chimney a column of smoke 
mounted straight up into the cold winter air, and on the other 
side stretched away the forest all-glorious in its fresh array; 
over path and bridge lay a mantle of dazzling whiteness. All 
nature was still as death; only a flock of crows, with their 
hoarse caw! caw! flew up from the trees, shaking off the oaks 
their jewels that dropped slowly to the ground, sparkling as 
they fell. And over the whole lay the rosy reflection from the 
setting sun, which hue in the distance melted into a wonderful 
violet. 

The young man^s eyes scanned the charming landscape* 

“ Look, Nelly, said he, “ all this, as far as the eye reaches, 
was once ours. 

“ The paper-mill too?^^ asked the little girl, pointing down 
to its slate-covered gable. 

“ Not the mill itself, but a considerable part of the landed 
property attached to it. Grandfather sold it to the miller^s 
father, at some time when he found himself in embarrassment 
—so grandmamma told me. That man now goes proudly to 
the chase, while we — he drew his hand across his eyes; then 


22 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 

laughed and began to whistle — he would not let such thoughts 
worry him now. 

At the trellised gate of the park he turned and gazed back 
once more up the long avenue. There glittered the spacious 
portal; the steps of the broad flight of stairs, that served for 
an approach, were snowed over and the snow had drifted high 
against the massive folding^doors. 

Fabulously beautiful the castle looked, bathed in the now 
intensely red glow of the sinking sun. The windows shone 
like molten gold in the face of the young man, just as golden 
and rose-tinted as those dreams of the future which had taken 
shape in his heart. 

‘‘ It must be diflerent here again, said he. “ It must — 1 
will have it so.^^ He turned and followed his sister. 

Silently they walked along side by side; at last the young 
officer stood still and looked at his watch. 

Do you know, little sister,^’ said he, I must walk brisk- 
ly if I would not miss the stage. Turn back! You will only 
get cold feet in this deep snow. Farewell, little one, and 
once more give my warm love to all at home!^'’ He stooped 
down and kissed her. Do not let time hang too heavy upon 
your hands in that lonesome old castle, he added, at the same 
time looking at her almost compassionately. 

She shook her head. “ Oh, no, I have Lieschen.^^ 

They were standing just where the path by which they had 
come turns into the public road. On that side a path, lined 
with flr-trees, led to the paper-mill, and it also came out at 
this spot; the road descended quite steeply to the little village, 
and a linden-tree stretched out its arms over a snow-covered 
stone bench. From the village a post-horn was now plainly 
to be heard. At the same time the words of an old song 
rang out jocundly and mockingly into the air, sung in a clear, 
childish voice, and immediately afterward a young maiden 
emerged from behind the fir-trees. She stopped short when 
she caught sight of the two figures standing there. For a sec- 
ond a deep blush suffused the child-like face, and a pair of 
deep-blue eyes sunk to the earth as though in fright, but 
quickly she drew nearer, and the pretty little red mouth smiled 
until two sweet dimples were formed in her cheeks. 

Ah, Nelly,^^ cried she, “ how delightful to have met you! 
And you, Norman, asked she, in child-like manner without 
a trace of shyness, are you really going away without having 
been once to call upon us at the mill?^^ 

The young officer had flushed up when he saw the blue eyes 
directed toward him, and grasped the hand which she held out 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


88 


to him in childish fashion. He was not yet sufficiently versed 
in the ways of the world to invent an excuse; his smile van- 
that dear little rosy face, that looked up at him 
nd reproachfully. 

has been ^called off suddenly/^ said Helly, 
otherwise — she stopped, it was impossible for her, simple 
child that she was, to utter a falsehood; she could have cried 
for very shame, and looked, up at her brother as though seek- 
ing help from him. But already those few words had satisfied 
the young girl. 

Good Norman said Lieschen, now entirely pacified, 
think of my suspecting that you meant to come no more to 
the mill? I was just going to Nelly once for all — she 
laughed so that the dimples appeared again in her cheeks — 
to find out if what auntie maintains is true, viz., that you 
have grown proud. But now 1 can laugh at her — is it not so? 
You wonld have come, still, either to-day or to-morrow, said 
she, confidently. 

He looked across at her as though lost in thought. “ How 
you have grown said he then, allowing his eyes, to take a 
survey of her slender form. In fact Lieschen had grown up 
to be almost as tell as he was himself; she looked so graceful, 
too, in her blue velvet jacket trimmed with fur; suddenly she 
reddened under his gaze and asked, quickly: 

Are you to go by the five-o^ clock coach? Then you must 
hurry, Norman. 1 am glad 1 have seen you as an officer.'’^ 
Again she held out her hand to him, and again he took it. He 
too was laughing now; something came over him, as it were — 
memories from the days of their childhood. 

‘‘ Last tag! Norman she then called out, tapping him 
lightly on the shoulder and running away fast. For a mo- 
ment the young man stood as though he would rush after her, 
as formerly, in order to give her “ the last tag,^^ as they used 
to do every time that she had left the castle or he the mill — 
they had delighted so in teasing each other that way. But 
then he quickly drew his cloak around him, nodded back once 
more, and was gone. He did not look around again at the 
two girls, who stood there gazing after him, arm in arm — he 
had to make such haste. 

Under the snow-crowned linden-tree a pair of sweet blue 
eyes grew moist, and a voice whose merriment was all gone, 
whispered softly, “ Farewell!^ ^ 

Nelly, too, wept; and when his form disappeared behind the 
village houses, she asked, anxiously: You are not angry with 
Norman, are you, Lieschen?^^ 


ished before 
inquiringly a 
Norman 


24 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


But Lieschen did not answer; she only shook her little head 
and walked along beside her young friend, silent and sad. 

The rose tints had faded from the sky, and now only a pale 
yellow still colored the horizon; the windows of the old castle 
looked out again as grimly as ever upon the monotony of the 
scene; and both those young hearts were being thrilled by the 
pain of parting; the good-night kiss which they exchanged at 
the trellised gate of the park was more fervent, much more 
fervent, than usual, and it seemed as. though Lieschen could 
hardly let go her friend^s little hand; and once more she whis- 
pered, Good-night 


CHAPTEE III. 

The rag-mill, as the paper-mill was universally called in all 
the region round about, was charmingly situated between two 
lofty old trees on the banks of a swift-running little river. 
The stately dwelling-house, with gilded weather-cock on its 
pointed slate roof, dated from the first half of the former cent- 
ury, and had retained the characteristics of that period. Its 
front door, of solid oak, with bright brass knocker, was still 
the same, and the inscription carved upon the jutting balcony, 
now gray with age, announced that “ this house was erected 
to the glory of God in the year 1741 by John Frederick Irving 
and his wife, Ernestine, whose maiden name was Eisen- 
hardtin.-^^ The old dragon heads at the four corners of the 
roof still held themselves at all times ready to eject the rain 
from their mouths, and the gray sand-stone benches on either 
side of the house-door, beneath the two great linden-trees, were 
as much to-day as ever the favorite gathering-place of the 
family on fine summer evenings. A large fruit garden sur- 
rounded the house on three sides, with its straight walks, a 
shady jasmine bower and quantities of currant and gooseberry 
bushes. This garden was under the special administration of 

auntie.” In that whole country there were no such splen- 
did sorts of apples and cherries as at the rag-mill, and the 
asparagus from her carefully kept beds was just as famous on 
account of its tenderness and extraordinary size. 

Who would have thought of the paper-mill without that dear 
old woman? Hospitality made itself felt as soon as one had 
crossed the bridge opposite the house. Even then an old 
woman^s head might be seen bobbing from behind the white 
curtains, bidding the guest welcome with a pair of kindly 
bright eyes. The same old woman would then thrust her 
spinning-wheel aside, and was so nimble that for the most part 


A TALE OF Al^ OLD CASTLE. 


25 

she was ready to meet the new-comer at the ever-open front 
door with a friendly greeting. How delighted Minnie and 
Frederick will be to see you — those were the names of mas- 
ter and mistress. And then she would trip forward and open 
the door to admit her guest into the snug sitting-room, and 
while she took the ponderous bunch of keys from her side, 
would speedily set off for kitchen and pantry. 

The old lady had lived at the mill from the time that she 
was ten years old. She had been an orphan, and the grand- 
father of the present owner had brought up the always pleas- 
antly disposed little girl, who had therefore been the playmate 
of his two children. She had rewarded this deed of benevolence 
by faithfulness and steady devotion, had shared weal and woe 
with the family, and had been now, for ever so long a while,* a 
cherished member of the household, and simply indispensable 
to> its comfort. The Irvings had always been distinguished for 
their goodness and kindness to the poor; they had never let 
the left hand know what the right hand did, and as auntie so 
often said, the Lord had blessed them — they were the richest 
people to be found far or near. 

There had alwavs belonged to the mill men of the genuine 
German type, wlfose hand offered in pledge was worth more 
than ten oaths, and who to a firm will united enterprising and 
restless energy. ‘‘Pray and work,^’ had always been the 
motto of the family, inculcated on the children by their par- 
ents. The mill, however, had one more claim to celebrity, 
which had well-nigh grown proverbial, and this was the beauty 
of its women. “As pretty as though she came from the 
mill,^^ passed from mouth to mouth in the village, when they 
wished to compliment a young beauty, and the blue eyes of the 
fair miller^s maidens had, loT these many years, caused many 
a sigh and many a heartache. The old mill had also looked 
down upon many a joyous scene of life, and the joy had ever 
been that of purity and innocence. A neighborly, friendly 
intercourse had always been kept up with the Derenbergs; on 
both sides were qualities that called forth mutual respect, and if, 
as sonaetimes happened, the old lord of the castle rode along by 
the mill stream, and the miller, as it happened, sat under the 
linden-tree with his wife, there always ensued a friendly chat 
In times of trial, too, they joined hands; and while the war 
lasted, from 1807 to 1813, blood relations could not have held 
more closely together than the proud Derenbergs and the 
Irvings of the paper-mill. 

When auntie first came to the mill the owner had been 
blessed with two merry children. The little girl was the same 


26 ta A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 

age as herself, the boy about four years older. She grew up 
with them; to be sure, the miller^s wife, who was a woman as 
thrifty as she was pious, firmly enforced her opinion that the 
little orphan girl from the poor-house must be kept in her ovm 
station, as she would afterward have to take the part of house- 
maid. But Mrs. Irving could not and would not prevent the 
three children from playing together, so that between the two 
girls a warm friendship developed, which strengthened with 
their years. The boy, on his side, found good comrades in the 
two sons who were growing up over in the castle, dnd the 
Baroness Derenberg took such 'a fancy to the fair-haired 
youngster that she persuaded his parents to let him share the 
instructions her own sons were receiving. So it came to pass 
that little Frederick left the village school for the study in the 
baronial castle, and seldom has there been a more appreciable 
scholar. 

Afterward when the Derenberg sons were full-grown and 
had long since made the grand tour of the Continent; when 
the elder one had already entered into possession of the prop- 
erty bequeathed him by his father, and the younger had be- 
come a rollicking cavalry officer, they were still more frequent- 
ly to be found at the old house, visiting their friend. Little 
Lisette meanwhile had changed into a talk and graceful maiden; 
she possessed the proverbial beauty of the miller^s daughters to 
the fullest extent, and no one could meet unmoved the glance 
of her large eyes, which were as blue and deep as the lake in 
the Derenberg forest. 

Mariette, too, had grown to be a splendid girl as the mis- 
tress said; she darted to and fro in kitchen and cellar, singing 
as she went, and had^ such a playful, kindly disposition, that 
no one could help liking the merry, red-cheeked little thing. 
Now indeed she durst address her former playmate only with 
the respectful ^‘Miss,^^but still in secret the familiar Li- 
sette would cross her lips, and many a summer evening 
would they sit arm in arm under the jasmine arbor down by 
the water, as they had been accustomed to do when children. 

And at this time it was that a heavy misfortune befell the 
family, so heavy that the afflicted parents felt it to be almost 
unbearable, and the lively Mariette was changed by it into a 
sober, quiet woman — it touched, too, the jewel of the house- 
hold, lovely Lisette. 

That dear child had often enough, it is true, heard from her 
mother, who was learned in folk-lore, the rhyme: 

“ Like age, like fortune and like birth, 

Make the happiest marriages on earth.” 


A TALE OF A2S^ OLD CASTLE. 


27 


But how was she to bear such an adage in mind when her 
young heart had already admitted that love which will know 
nothing at all of rank and station. And she loved, for the 
first time, with the simple, confiding faith of a child, and the 
love which had called forth hers was no less serious and sacred 
than her own. Then a hand was rudely put forth and wan- 
tonly destroyed this budding happiness; it was the fair, deli- 
cate hand of a woman, but it rent these two hearts so suddenly 
asunder that one of them succumbed beneath its wounds — 
Lisette, after a brief, sharp illness, forever closed those won- 
derful blue. eyes of hers. 

From that time all connection between mill and castle had 
been broken off, and when the sorrowing Marian w’ould see 
the young baron dash past on the forest road, riding in a car- 
riage at the side of his beautiful wife, then she would sigh 
softly to herself: She is from frivolous Italy. What can she 
know of the deep, true love of a German heart? But retribu- 
tion dpes not sleep 

All this had happened long ago, and the people then occupy- 
ing the mill had long been dead. Marian was an old woman 
now; but still stayed with the Irvings, by whom she was es- 
teemed and loVed as though she belonged to the family. 
Frederick Irving, the present owner of the mill, nephew to the 
beautiful Lisette, had found in her a second mother, for his own 
parents dying early, she had taken him tp her fostering bosom, 
and tenderly reared him. He had flourished admirably under 
her care, and one day when he brought home a lovely wife, she 
met the young pair on the threshold of the home of his fathers 
with cordial congratulations, and the young husband, present- 
ing his blushing bride to be embraced, said: “ There now, 
auntie (for so he always called her) just love her a little, 
and be a mother to us both!^^ 

Just so it had happened. And now when Marian stood at 
the baptismal font, in the old village church, holding out an 
infant daughter of that young pair to be baptized, and a pair 
of large blue eyes had looked up into her face, tears of joy fell 
down upon the baby^s pillow, and a fervent thanksgiving as- 
cended to Heaven for all the happiness that had fallen to her 
lot. The name given to the child was Lieschen. 

About this time calamity overtook the inhabitants of the 
castle, and the shock was felt by some hearts in that quiet mill: 
Baron Derenberg died suddenly. Old Marian sat silently be- 
fore her spinning-wheel and thought: How surely grinds the 
mill of divine justice. And one day when her pet, the little 
four-year-old Lieschen and another little golden-haired girl 


28 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


came tripping across the mill bridge^ hand in hand, followed 
by a splendidly handsome boy with black hair and defiant eyes, 
who, in embarrassed manner was twirling a little switch, she 
went to meet them, took the fair-haired little girl in her arms, 
and after a reply to the question whether she did not live up 
there in the castle, the child had nodded assent, she caried her 
into the sitting-room where the young mistress was, and then 
giving one hand to the boy and the other to her^own Lieschen, 
she led them in, and both women, the old and the young one, 
caressed the little fatherless children until at last the Jitfle girl 
threw her arms fondly around the old woman^s neck, and 
the boy with gleaming eyes caught at the apple which she held 
out to him. And when once more they tripped over the bridge 
on their way home, the brother carefully leading his little sis- 
ter by the hand, both of them kept turning their little heads 
and sending back a nod. Then the young woman pressed her 
little daughter to her heart, and while great tears rolled from 
her eyes, said: ‘^This evening we must not forget to thank 
God right heartily, because you have still a father, such a 
dear, good one, too; just look at those two children — they have 
no longer any father, and are in want of many, so many, 
things besides!^^ The friendship between Lieschen Irving and 
the Derenberg children dated from that visit. 

Meanwhile life had flowed along pleasantly at the mill. 
Lieschen daily improved in beauty; she was a modest, sensible 
girl, and diligent at her studies. The pastor, a friend of her 
father, and her own godfather, instructed her, and his wife 
spoke French with her and taught her how to sing. Some- 
times when she would be singing an old national melody, in 
her flexible, soft alto voice, old Marianas eyes would grow 
moist, and she would whisper to herself: Just like Lisette.^^ 

That Norman had not visited again at the mill after he be- 
came an officer hardly surprised the old woman. It is the 
grandmother ^s blood, said she. But Lieschen would not be- 
lieve that Norman could have grown proud, that same Nor- 
man with whom she had laughed so unreservedly no long time 
before; she must find out for herself, and with this view set off 
for the castle. And she met the brother and sister at the great 
linden-tree; Norman was just at the point of departure, but it 
was so easily explained; he was compelled to leave so suddenly, 
or else would surely have come. ^¥hen once more she stood 
in a warm room before the old woman, who was busily spin- 
ning, she said: Look you, auntie, it is 7iot true that Norman 
is proud; he could not come because he was called away in 
such a haste. 1 knew it/^ 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


39 


Is that so?^^ asked the old woman. 

Yes, you bad auntie; you regularly frightened me— you — 
and she spoke coaxingly. 

“ Ah, yes, the egg is always more knowing than the hen,"' 
replied she. Did Nelly say that he wanted to come?" 

Yes, and Nelly never says what's false." 

‘‘Nelly is a good child; and I am always glad to see her 
come here; she has the Derenberg look and spirit— downright 
honest people were those Derenbergs until the — " She was 
silent. 

“ What do you mean, auntie?" 

“ Well, when the devil wants to ruin people he is fair as an 
angel of light." 

“ What do you say?" 

“ Nothing. I am just talking to myself; but you may be- 
lieve, Lieschen, what the preacher said last Sunday from the 
pulpit, ‘ Our God is a just God,' that is a true saying; and you 
need not look at me in such amazement! You had better go 
and look on the second shelf in the oven! I have put sojne 
splendid roasted apples there for you. " 


OHAPTEK IV. 

Be it understood that two years and some months have 
passed by since we last saw our friends at the mill. 

It was evening now in the month of May. Through the 
open window a gentle, intoxicating breeze penetrated into 
Marian's little chamber; the wind agitated the young tendrils 
of the vine which framed in the window, and the moon cast its 
white light brightly on the clean planks of the floor, upon the 
simple furniture of the snug little room, and shone full upon 
the old woman's wrinkled face, as she sat there by the window, 
her busy hands lying idle in her lap, gazing out into the gar- 
den, where just now apple-tree and lilac-bush were blooming 
in all their glory. Marian was enjoying her hour of holiday 
—candles were not now to be lighted as on longer evenings — 
this was a good old custom of her native place, for - people do 
need rest sometimes, not only for their hands, but for their 
thoughts as well. These latter, however, were not exactly 
resting in this case, but rather roving far away into the past, 
that far-off happy time, and it was a joy, a refreshment, when 
the hour of twilight came after the heat and burden of the day. 
Everything in the house was well cared for and arranged, and 
on this sweet spring evening the present vanished from before 


30 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


the old woman eyey, and the days of her youth rose up be- 
fore her, in softened radiance, like the moonlit scenes outside. 

Marian folded her hands and looked back into the chamber; 
her gaze directing itself toward a little picture on the bureau, 
which, in the bright moonlight, showed the shadowy outline 
of a man^s head. 

“ Yes, yes, my Christian, she whispered, softly, we loved 
each other dearly, very dearly, and if we were only together 
for a short while I have not forgotten you, but remained true 
to you up to this very hour. Alas! that it should have gone 
so with you. Oh! so sadly! Oh! Thou who reignest in high 
heaven, what misery dost Thou not permit the poor creatures 
here below to live through in their brief existence! Man has 
may be a few years of happiness, then comes trouble and 
plenty of it. There were we, my Lisette and I, a pair of 
merry maidens, and just when we were thinking this world 
was full of joy — weeping set in. Alas! alas! for my Lisette 
and my good, old Christian !^^ She bowed her head in sorrow, 
for before her eyes rose up two green and grass-grown graves, 
as they lay there under the shadow of the church-yard lindens. 

Now flew a blooming lilac branch through the window; and 
it fell right into her lap. A merry laugh sounded from below. 

Weil, now, that is, Lieschen,^^ said Marian, and a roguish 
expression dissipated the gloom upon her brow as she now sat 
quite still, pressing herself backward into the depths of her 
arm-chair. Immediately afterward a girFs head was seen be- 
fore the window, surrounded by a dark wreath of foliage, her 
eyes peering in. 

‘‘Not there!^^ said she, in a tone of vexation; but a mo- 
ment after she uttered a little shriek, for Marian made a sud- 
den movement in her chair, and drew the lilac bough softly 
across the maiden^s startled face. 

“ Py! How dreadful, auntie, to scare me so!’^ 

“Eh! What? Who was scared first answered the old 
woman. “ Stay, Miss Mischief, will you still play the part of 
the insulted?^ ^ 

The maiden said nothing to this, but asked: “ Have father 
and mother already gotten back from town?^^ 

“Not yet; it will soon be eleven, though, my child. Go 
quietly to sleep! 1^11 keep awake. 

“ What are you thinking of, auntie?^^ cried the young girl. 
“Sleep such a lovely evening as this? Just come out for a 
little bit, and only for once enjoy the fragrance of all these 
lilacs! You can not imagine how glorious it is in the gar- 
den, 


A TALE OP AN OLD CASTLE. 


31 


Ah, child, such things are no longer for such as me; old 
people can not be made like young ones — it is damp out-of- 
doors, and there^s my rheumatism — but you stay out and en- 
joy the fine evening. 

“ Then, auntie, Ifil go in to you. May I? I can not be 
alone this evening; no, not for the world 
Well, come then, you foolish thing 

The little head vanished from the window, and soon after- 
ward the room-door opened, disclosing a tall and slender girlish 
form clad in white. 

‘‘ Here I am, auntie,'’^ she called out, cheerfully, seating 
herself on a low stool at the old woman^s feet. The moonshine 
fell full upon a small oval face, and showed a pair of mys- 
teriously deep-blue eyes, which, as it were, looked up plead- 
ingly at her old friend. 

“ Auntie, she then said softly, ‘^tell me something this 
evening, please. 

‘‘ Eh I Am I to tell stories to a great grown girl?^^ 

Oh, not that! Something out of your own youth, auntie. 

‘‘ Out of my own youth? But what sort of a thingr^^ 

“ Ah, auntie, just tell me tlrns' one time, how it was when 
you — when you met your lover for the first time. 

Eh, you — inquisitive creature! You are still much too 
young to know everything. For what am I to tell you that?^^ 

^‘But I am seventeen years old, auntie — many a girl has 
been engaged to be married long before this time, and — 

“ This is rather suspicious. You mean that you would like 
to be engaged yourself, miss — eh, eh, if I were to tell that to 
your mother now?^^ 

Only do, auntie !^^ cried the young girl, laughing. Just 
lately my mother showed me, oh! such piles of house-linen, 
and said: ‘ All this is for your marriage portion, Lieschen.*^ 
Well, I must say! But what was it you wanted to know?^^ 
You are to tell me how it was when you saw for the first 
time the man you loved !^^ 

The old woman was astonished, and the child before her 
looked up at her expectantly, her large eyes glistening with 
moisture. How quiet it was all round about — no sound was 
to be heard save that made by the monotonous but musical 
splashing of the water as it fiowed over the dam. 

“ Three lilies, three lilies, them plant on my grave!” 
sung a fresh soprano voice in the garden below. 

There came a strange trooper, my lilies he clave.” 


32 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE, 


Old Marian held up her head. “ That is Dora; how she can 
sing, and yet it was but to-day that she got a scolding! Love 
and singing are things that come not by force. 

Ah, trooper! ah, trooper, those lilies let be! 

The}'" were for my lover, my true love to see/’ 

Wofully solemn those words sounded, ringing out through 
the stillness of the night air. 

too have often sung that song myself when I was 
young, said Marian, nodding, and have sat there in the 
jasmine arbor with Lisette singing out of the fullness of a glad 
heart. She,, too, had a beautiful voice. But,^^ said she, sud- 
denly breaking off, ‘-where I saw him for the first time? 
Well, 1 was going on a walk one evening, it was as lovely a 
one as this only somewhat later in the year, July, may be; 
well, I was going down the path that leads along by the park, 
and singing as 1 went: 

“ ‘ No emperor, no king ia he, 

A soldier is the one for me. ’ 

When out came a man from under the shadow of the linden- 
tree walk, and asked: ‘Will none but a soldier please thee, 
maid?^ And because I was so frightened I made no answer 
whatever, and walked on fast. But he came up behind and 
politely begged my pardon, and upon my looking more closely 
at him I saw he had such a pleasant countenance, lighted up 
by a pair of such honest blue eyes, that I no longer felt afraid. 
Then we went slowly on together, and he told me that he was 
a groom at the castle, in the service of the young baroness— she 
who is now Norman ^s and Nellyas grandmother — who had just 
then come, and that he had often noticed me as he rode by the 
mill; for you know I was at service here in the time of your 
great-grandmother, of blessed memory. And then I told him 
about myself, about my no longer having either father or 
mother, and then when we had reached the mill bridge we 
shook hands, and he said ‘ Good-night, Marian,"' and then we 
spoke no more, but stood silently side by side for quite awhile, 
and then I ran off across the bridge as quickly as I could. 

“ How did you feel then, auntie?^^ 

“ Well, that I could hardly tell now, Lieschen dear,^^ said 
the old woman. “ I only know that the moon had never be- 
fore shed such a golden luster over the old mill, and the sky 
had never arched so high overhead; 1 could not sleep the whole 
night through, and yet was not tired at all the next day, and 
the words ‘ Good-night, Marian,^ were perpetually ringing in 
my ears.^^ 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


33 


The old woman looked down at the young girl whose eyes 
were glistening with tears. J ust tell me^ Lieschen^ what 
ails you. 

Ah! nothing, auntie,^^ she answered. Do you know, I 
am going out a little while before the door; father and mother 
must come soon. Good-night, auntie 

Good-nighfc, Lieschen! God bless you! But, hark! ye, 
child; when you cut the asparagus again early in the morning, 
do not leave the half of it standing, as you did to-day; else in 
future I must attend to it myself, as hard as it would be for 
me. Good-night !^^ 

And the old woman sat once more alone in her little cham- 
ber. She closed the window and walked up to the bureau 
shaking her head. She looked at her Christianas likeness — 
the moonbeams had glided further on — she could not rightly 
discern the little picture, but then she knew so exactly how 
it looked. 

Yes, so it was,^^ whispered she, out there at the bridge 
it began. Love has a good memory. I know it all to-night 
just as exactly as if we had stood there only yesterday. Lies- 
chen is to blame for it. What was she up to, the silly thing 
Lieschen had seated herself outside under the linden- trees, aud 
the mill brook rushed noisily by. Her eyes were fixed upon 
the path beyond the water leading to the castle, and over 
there behind those dark tree-tops, there rose proud moonlit 
towers mounted up into the evening sky, as she had seen them 
so often, innumerable times — and yet how was it that the sight 
had never affected her so strangely before? 

An unexpected meeting gave the explanation. Norman had 
suddenly made his appearance in the arbor where she and Nelly 
were sitting, one reading aloud to the other. Wholly un- 
looked for, there he stood, and laughingly caught his sister in 
his arms, who, flushing from joy, could not speak, and then he 
had looked across at her as though lost in astonishment and 
finally had addressed her as Praulein Lieschen. Fraulein 
Lieschen !^^ How it sounded! She could not help laughing, 
and he laughed too, but stuck to calling her so nevertheless. 
He had grown stouter and taller since that winter evening 
when she had seen him, for the last time, under the old snow- 
crowned linden-tree, and now he wore a mustache — how hand- 
some he was, though! And then how swiftly had sped the 
evening of Nellyas birthday; they had revived old childish 
recollections, and he had been so merry, so well content, his 
mother^s face had actually shone with delight; and then, for 
her own part, when she was obliged to leave he had accom- 


34 


k TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


panied her; together they had walked down the linden avenue 
and then along the path to the mill bridge, just as Marian had 
done that time with Christian; they had chatted of their child- 
hood, and at the bridge he had stood still. ‘‘ Good-night, 
Eraulein Lieschen.^^ Again she had had to laugh. ‘‘ Good- 
night, Herr Norman,^^ she had wanted to say, but the word^ 
would not pass her lips; she only held out to him unsteadily 
her slender hand, which he grasj)ed as that of an old acquaint- 
ance — and then he had turned off and moved away, while she 
had leaned over the railing, and looked into the water, on 
which the moonlight was trembling in silver streaks, and had 
listened to the nightingale singing among the old linden-trees 
— as though in a dream. 

I wonder if he will come to the mill this time?^^ she now 
asked herself, looking across at the castle. ‘ ^ Oh, yes, cer- 
tainly! If mother will only not insist upon paying that long- 
deferred visit to-morrow!^^ thought she. ‘‘ No, that would be 
too great a pity, and go with her I must in any case.'’^ 

And thus she sat there, dreaming under the linden-tree, or 
that night in spring, and the moon smiled gently down, as 
though loath to disturb her in those blissful dreams, for tb 
moon, sweet watcher! knows how lightly they are blown away 
Ah! so lightly! 

Over at the castle, until late into the night, pale lamp-lighr 
glimmered from the windows of the old baroness. Eobed ii 
black, she sat leaning back in her arm-chair, and her finger, 
toyed with the white handkerchief on her lap. ‘‘ And you 
say, Norman, she began, questioning the young officer w^ht* 
sat opposite to her, that Aunt Stontheim herself expressec 
the wish that Biauca should visit us here?'^ 

“ No, dearest grandma, that were to say too much. Auir 
Stontheim is a peculiar woman; she never exactly expresses t 
wish. She spoke of the fatigues of the winter season having 
affected Bianca^s health, and put the question to me, whether 
the air of our forests was not good; whereupon, understand- 
ing the hint, as a matter of course I immediately proffered 
our hospitality.^^ 

Very officious it was of you, dear Norman. 1 must ac- 
knowledge that to have a spoiled young lady upon one^^s hands 
to entertain in this doleful old castle seems to me rather a heavy 
task. Aunt Stontheim was xery wanting in tact to accept 
your invitation, and for this Bianca besides. She can then go 
and tell her father how they have to entertain guests at Deren- 
berg Castle."" The old lady laughed bitterly. 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 35 

Norman kept silence. He was watching a moth-butterfly 
that fluttered around the glass globe of the lamp. 

What does this Bianca look like?^^ asked his grandmoth- 
er, after a pause. 

Norman^s face was suddenly lighted up as though by sun- 
shine. How am I to describe her to you, grandma? 1 can 
only say that Bianca is an extraordinary apparition; one is 
dazzled when he sees her for the flrst time, and the of tener one 
sees her the more fascinations he discovers. 

Such is a lover’s mode of description,” remarked the old 
lady, coolly; so far as I have been able to learn she has never 
possessed the primary qualifications of a beauty. ” 

Norman reddened excessively under the cold glances of 
those large dark eyes. 

She is not exactly beautiful; she has something so — ” 

‘ ^ Enough !” interrupted the baroness, impatiently. ^ ^ Eather 
tell me what people think of our aunt’s relations with Bianca, 
and what the latter has to hope for.” 

She is regarded as aunt’s sole heiress. As for the rest, 1 
saw nothing of any great cordiality of feeling between them 

during the fourteen days of my stay at D during the 

Christmas holidays, and on occasion of aunt’s birthday.” 

The baroness contemptuously shrugged her shoulders. 

Have you already communicated to your mother the joy- 
ful tidings of this expected visit?” 

No, neither-%to mamma nor Nelly; they were not alone, 
that little girl from the mill was with Nelly.” 

Oh, of course. It is incomprehensible! Once and for all 
I have renounced her acquaintance; but alas! she is all in all 
to your mother and sister, who behold in her an angel of 
bepty and goodness. But, Norman, where in the world is 
this Bianca to stay? Where am I to find her proper attend- 
ance?” 

I had thought of the chamber next to yours, grandma, 
and selected the tower-room for her sitting-room — as for at- 
tendance, Bianca will bring her own maid with her. ” 

The tower-room? Never!” cried the old lady, starting 
up; her face, which was usually pale, having at this instant 
assumed an almost death-like pallor. 

Norman looked at her in shocked amazement. As you 
choose, grandma!” 

Settle that with your mother!” she hastily added. ‘‘ Let 
Bianca stay where she chooses. The tower-room remains 
locked so long as 1 live. Go to rest now. In the morning we 
shall talk more. ” 


36 


A. TALE OE AN OLD CASTLE. 


KTormau bowed over her haiid, and then left the room. 
Outside in the resounding corridor rested the moonbeams, 
which through the many small panes of the tall windows fell 
full upon the v/hite floor stones. 

Still always that old song/^ said he, softly; what is the 
meaning, though, of all that about the little chamber in the 
tower? And I had fancied how delightful it would be to fur- 
nish it for Bianca. 

‘^For Bianca?^ ^ He stood still a moment. His thoughts 
flew back to^ the great city, to the elegant mansion with its 
plate-glass windows and flower-decked veranda — there, up in 
the second story, behind those airy lace curtains, there she was 
lying now, asleep. He entered his own room; the windows 
were open, the breeze wafted in to him a whiff of fragrance 
from the flower beds, and he looked out upon the park, now 
bathed in moonlight. There came over him the remembrance 
of a winter evening, when he had tarried awhile in this same 
chamber, then when life lay dark before him and the future 
filled him with dread, and well he remembered, too, how that 
old proverb over the fire-j)lace had so strangely inspired him 
with hope and buoyancy of spirit: 

“ Trust in God, and do hot fear; 

The day of happiness draws near. ’ ’ 

Had happiness come to him? Ah! no, not happiness itself 
as yet, but some sweet foretastes of its presence he had enjoyed. 
Again, he reverted in spirit to Aunt Stontheim^s elegant home. 

Upon that old lady^s invitation he had repaired to D for 

the Christmas holidays, and as he had kissed her hand, which 
she held out to him in welcome, he had not seemed at all ami- 
ably disposed. Tea had been handed to him, and the feeling 
as if he were now to have a most wearisome time lay like a 
mountain load upon his breast. Suddenly the curtains before 
the door had been drawn back, and the form of a maiden 
stood before him, as though it had been wafted into the apart- 
ifient. The chandelier which was suspended from the ceiling 
cast its dazzling light upon a young creature that looked quite 
elf-like in a gossamer robe of pale-green gauze that floated 
around her in billowy waves. Dazzhngly white soft shoul- 
ders emerged from these waves, and above the fair but narrow 
brow and down the back in magnificant profusion glistened 
oh! such radiantly beautiful red hair. 

He had sprung to his feet and stared at her as though he 
saw a specter. The young lady threw her magnificent bouquet 
of white camellias on the table, hurried past him, and paid 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


37 


Iier respects to her aunt. Agnes rang out from an in- 
ward voice, the beautiful Agnes Matilda from our ancestral 
hall at home!^^ 

Is it already so late?^^ asked the aunt, casting a searching 
glance over that charming figure; and then pointing to him, 
she said: Dear Bianca, your cousin Norman von Deren- 
berg, who is to be our guest for the holidays.-’^ 

The young lady had cast a rapid glance at him out of a pair 
of very dark eyes — and still he gazed upon her; he could do 
naught else — there she stood, the fair Agnes Matilda herseK, 
as if she had just stepped out of her gilded frame. Yes, he 
had certainly acquitted himself most awkwardly; the seething 
blood mounted hotly to his brow at the bare thought. Then, 
at his aunt^s request, he had made a hasty toilet, sat opposite 
the ladies in a silk-cushioned carriage, and entered a fairy-like 
hall that was brilliantly lighted; he had fairly flown with 
Bianca, as they danced, over the mirror-like floor, had after- 
ward chatted delightfully with her, while he did not fail to tell 
her that, at home in the castle, there hung a portrait in the 
picture-gallery that looked exactly like her, and before which 
he had stood for hours when a boy, gazing as though he could 
never be satisfied. 

She had smiled at this, and suggested that it would be pleas- 
ant for her to put his impression to the test by standing side 
by side with the portrait and letting it be seen if imagination 
had not a great deal to do with the resemblance. The eyes 
indeed, those deep, melancholy eyes, she did not have; true, 
hers were dark, too, but had not that unfathomable look of 
woe. How should that be possible, though? She was still so 
young, so gay, so admired! He followed her with his eyes, 
when she glided by him in the dance. Like a veil of glisten- 
ing gold fell her flowing hair about her delicate pale face; he 
could not enough admire its wondrous beauty; he envied every 
one who danced with her, and was under a spell of enchant- 
ment, as it were, throughout the whole night. 

He was happy, too, when the sacred eve came for whose 
solemnization he had particularly come, and which assuredly 
ought to be spent quietly at home. But just then she had 
pleased him least of all; not that she looked less charming — 
certainly not. That wondrous veil of golden tresses was just 
as strikingly effective as ever upon the background or her dark, 
blue silk robe; the wax tapers on the Christmas-tree made it 
glisten as though spangled with tiny stars, but the radiant 
smile was wanting that makes a face truly fascinating; the 


38 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


calm, holy joy befitting Christmas-tide was wholly lacking in 
Bianca^s black eyes. 

And now again followed party upon party, until finally he 
had to take his leave, however hard it was for him to go. He 
begged his aunt to allow him soon to come again, ^d in the 
breast-pocket of his uniform he carried way with him a pretty 
Eussia^leather case, a love-token from his cousin. This had 
become his treasure, for in it lay a long lock of a woman^s fine 
red hair. She gave him the hair jestingly, at his request, that 
he might compare the two and find out whieh was more golden 
in hue, that in the picture at home or hers. 

Still Norman kept his stand at the open window of that dark 
chamber; with a quick movement he drew out his case and 
examined by moonlight the lock of hair which was prettily tied, 
above and below, with narrow blue ribbon. He pressed it to 
his lips, and a whole series of delightful pictures of the future 
passed in review before his souTs eye. Again he saw himself 
here in the castle of his forefathers; she stood beside him in the 
summer night; his arm encircledher waist and her golden head 
was pressed tenderly against his breast. Outside in the desert 
sandstone soil, after a long course of dreary years, was once 
more heard the sound of a fountain at play, announcing new 
life and a glad one. How lovely was that dream of the fut- 
ure! But, alas! it was only a dream — and the reality? Nor- 
man shuddered; this bare, unlucky reality pressed upon him 
claims that almost terrified him. Whence get the means for 
veiling from his fair guest in some sort of glitter and show the 
sad poverty of Castle Derenberg? Money, oh, that wetched 
money! Dreamily he looked out upon the park. The night 
wind had risen and gently agitated the boughs of those ancient 
trees. It is time to sleep, said the young dreamer. With 
a light step he forsook the gloomy old hall and sought his 
couch. In a dream the fair Agnes Matilda appeared to him; 
she stood before him in her robe of silver brocade, enveloped 
as it were in a golden haze; she looked at him with her great 
melancholy eyes, and lifted up a warning finger, and 

“ A crown of glory was such hair — 

If red the color, though, beware,^* 

echoed in his ears. 


CHAPTEE V. 

Norman, how glad«atam that we are to have a visitor for 
once,^^ said Nelly to her brother the next day as he walked 


A TALE OE AH OLD CASTLE. 


39 


with her through the green park in the dewy freshness of the 
morning. What will Lieschen say? I must tell her about 
it. Do say, Norman/^ pleaded she, coaxingly, as she fondly 
nestled up to him, ‘^how you like Lieschen now? Has she 
not grown wonderfully pretty?^^ 

“I really do not know/^ replied he, as though lost in 
thought; “ I have not noticed — yes, well, I believe I hardly 
remember. 

“But, Norman,^^ exclaimed his sister, “you are absent- 
minded, or else troubled — has anything unpleasant happened? 
Can I help you in any way?^^ 

“No, little sister,^^ said he, laughingly, as he playfully 
stroked her rosy cheek with his hand. “ You can not help 
me in the very least; it is a fatal tale. I am afraid to tell 
mamma, but I can not help it. 

“Ah, do not tell mamma, Norman, implored the young 
girl, pausing in her walk. She placed her little hand on his 
shoulder, and her eyes anxiously scanned her brother's counte- 
nance. “ Please do not! She is so delicate and cries so much. 
Ah! please do not tell her, if it is anything unpleasant. 

Norman^s features betrayed a slight embarrassment. “ My 
heavens! Yes!^^ said he, “but what am I to do? I can^t 
apply to grandma; it would be of no use either, since she really 
is in no condition to — 

“ Norman !^^ whispered Nelly, divining the cause of his em- 
barrassment, and drawing nearer to him, “ I do believe I can 
help you. Wait a single minute; or, no, go on further and 
stay under the great maple-tree by the pond! 1^11 be back 
directly. And fleetly she ran back along the shady avenue, 
the sunbeams dancing over her simple white dress and flaxen 
curls; soon she had vanished around the nearest curve in the 
road. 

The young man looked after her, and then v/alked on. 
“ What was she after? She could not possibly know — 

He then seated himself on the stone bench and looked out 
over the clear water, in which the blue sky and tall trees were 
so gracefully mirrored. “ How beautiful it is here!^^ said he, 
half aloud; “ if she only had a little taste for the beauties of 
nature, it must please her.^^ 

Light steps now became audible behind him, and turning 
round he looked into his sister’s flushed and beaming face. 

“There, Norman!” said she; and growing still more red 
she laid a pretty little silk punse in his hand. “ I really do 
not need it; no, really and truly not — why should I? And 
now youTl not say a word to mamma, will you?” Delight at 


40 


A TALE OE AH OLD CASTLE. 


being able to give something shone in every lineament of the 
lovely maiden^s features. ‘‘ Good, dear Norman she 
pleaded, put it in your pocket right quick! It will certain- 
ly be enough. 

No, Nelly, no!^^ cried he, blushing crimson, ‘‘your sav- 
ings — 

She laid her hand on his mouth. “You provoke me, 
Norman, said she, “ if brother and sister are not to help 
one another out of difficulties — ! Who knows, I may come to 
you some day! Now let us go on and talk no more about it! 
See, what think you of our having a boat here? I have wished 
for one this long time. Then we could row with Bianca and 
Lieschen — could we not? Bianca is not proud?^^ 

He made no reply; just then he was feeling himself to be a 
pitiful creature. Quickly he turned away his face. 

His sister observed this. “ Norman,'’^ said she, “follow 
me soon! I must run back to mamma now as fast as I can, 
and — she ever thinks of what mamma needs — “ I am in a 
hurry,’^ she called back once more, striking into the nearest 
path that led to the castle. 

He slowly followed, in humiliation such as he had never 
known before. Yesterday he had not given her the merest 
trifle for a birthday present, and to-day she gave him with 
positive glee her treasured savings. He stopped and opened 
the little silk purse; a few single dollar pieces were there, and 
then something beside, wrapped up in paper; he unfolded it 
and found a gold piece, also a few words traced on the paper, 
in his mother^s handwriting: “ To buy a new dress for my 
Nelly, he read. Evidently the young girl had not even 
thought of the words, else she would have saved him that con- 
fusion. He thought of the much-worn dress that she had on 
yesterday and to-day, and how pleased she would have been 
with a new one. A new dress for five dollars! That was ex- 
actly the price of the bouquet which he had recently sent to 
Bianca, and which she had probably cast heedlessly aside the 
morning after the ball. He thought of that graceful form, as 
he had seen it, ever draped in nestling robes of heavy silk or 
folds of fleecy crepe. What contrasts this life does present! 
In front there lay the castle, as imposing with its gigantic 
fa9ade and its towers, while the heir of this proud house did 
not own enough to — No, it would drive him to despair. 

He turned hurriedly and walked back. Involuntarily his 
eye swept over the wooded land till it was arrested by the 
pointed slate roof o£ the paper-mill. Suddenly he laughed 
aloud. “Yes, they have so much the more,""^ muttered he; 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


41 


just let any one have to do with rags and the like, then the 
money pours in; and all this will fall into the hands of the 
little girl with whom I used to play. The miller^s Lieschen 
is the richest heiress in all this region round about. Verily a 
misanthrope might laugh to see how things are shared out in 
this world However, there was no sign of laughter to be 
discerned in his dark eyes. He looked terribly depressed, did 
that handsome young officer; his sister^s money burned like 
fire in his hand, while he strode rapidly on, his lips tightly 
compressed. That fair dream of the future had taken to 
flight before the obtrusive present, and the unpleasantness of 
his situation pecuniarily had seized hold of him with full force. 
He took the little paper containing his mother ^s words, and 
laid it in his pocket-book; then he walked on, and upon turn- 
ing into the main road, caught sighi? of old Henry, who came 
forward to meet him as fast as his tired limbs allowed. 

Lieutenant, the lady, your grandmamma, begs that you 
will come to her directly,''^ was the message he delivered, look- 
ing kindly, as he did so, into the young man^s disturbed coun- 
tenance. 

Norman found the old baroness hurriedly pacing the floor of 
her apartment. A slight flush suffused her proud features, 
and her black eyes were impatiently directed toward the crim- 
son 'portiere through which her grandson must approach. She 
held an open letter in her hand, and from time to time she 
paused and gave a glance at the paper. 

It is incredible,^^ said she, then, softly; those Konigs- 
burg Derenbergs! To get such firm foothold. Dio rnio ! 
Such bitter pills as Stontheim does give me to swallow in this 
short letter! And yet we must thank God that the affair may 
be so arranged. How glad I am that in spite of the coolness 
existing beWeen us, I insisted upon Norman^s paying his re- 
spects to her.^^ Again she glanced at the letter^’s contents: 

‘ I have in Norman,^ she read, ‘ met a dear, fine fellow, a 
true gentleman, and a real Derenberg, and in spite of our 
really short acquaintance I have learned to love him heartily. 

The old lady^s lip curled contemptuously. 

^ My disposition, as you know of old,^ she read on, Ms to 
be downright and candidly say exactly what I mean. That 
we never agreed probably resulted from the too great differ- 
ence in our views of things. Now we are both old women, 
dearest Derenberg, and it is high time that we made peace for 
the brief remainder of life still left us. I offer you my hand 
upon it. Let by-gones be by-gonesT^doubtless there was fault 


48 


A TALE OF AK OLD OASTLE* 


on both sides. And now I should like to confide to you a pet 
scheme of mine as regards Norman. Through him you will 
have already learned that in my house lives a young relative, 
who being motherless, now takes the place of a daughter to 
me in my solitary estate, and I love her as though she were 
one really. If I am not utterly deceived, Norman does not 
look upon his cousin with indifference. Candidly, I would re- 
joice, dearest Derenberg, if the two should fall in love with 
each other, and, that the opportunity may not be wanting, I 
am going to send Bianca on a visit to your country home, under 
pretext of fortifying her constitution. Would that those two 
young hearts might there become united, and that when 1 next 
greet Norman it may be as a beloved son! You are a prudent 
woman, Derenberg, therefore 1 need not remind you to give 
the young people no inkling of my desire. I hope that they 
will be drawn together by their own inclinations. It is possi- 
ble that Bianca, with her shrewd little head, may have sus- 
pected my design, but 1 have not intrusted her with the secret. 

^ And now may the Lord provide focthe rest, and bring 
it all to pass for our great joy! Again offering you my hand 
in reconciliation, and hoping for a speedy reply, I am, dearest 
Derenberg, yours, 

‘ Erkestin^e, Countess Stontheim, 

‘ nee Derenberg.^ 

“It is really grand, added the old lady, “ and we must 
just put a good face upon a bad game. It is long-headed of 
Stontheim, but she was always so. Bianca is her heiress, that 
is clear, and now, since she has made the young man^s ac- 
quaintance, she would like to arrange the affair in good style. 
1 must bite into this sour apple without making a wry face, 
and thank God that it may be brought about even thus. She 
is a malicious creature, this Stontheim. But I must give him 
just one hint; it seems that this Bianca is not indifferent to 
him, and — 

At this moment Norman entered the room. His grand- 
mother gave him a welcoming smile. 

“ I have gotten a letter from Stontheim, said she, standing 
still and holding out her hand to him. “She announces 
Bianca’s coming, and now, dear heart, forgive me for having 
opposed your plans so unamiably yesterday! I had a slight 
attack of my neuralgia yesterday, and that put me out of 
sorts; I am really glad that the young lady is coming to visit 
us.” 

Norman^ wlio had just bowed )ur? curly head low over her 


A TALE AH OLD CASTLE. 


43 


hand, looked up with beaming eyes into his grandmother^s 
face. Is that really so, grandma?- Thank you. Oh! such 
a load as you lift from my soul! It was very unpleasant to 
me for any burden to be imposed upon you that you did not 
like. May I know what else aunt wrote 

The old lady smiled. ‘‘No, dear heart, said she, “it is 
not well to hear too many compliments. 

“Does aunt like me?^^ asked he, quite excitedly, twirling 
his mustache. 

“ Aunt is of opinion that you are quite a reasonable young 
man, and will one day make a genuine Derenberg,*’^ 

Norman^s brow darkened. “ Is that all?^^ 

Especially if,^^ and now a mischievous expression accom- 
panied the words, “ if a beloved and lovely wife stands by your 
side.^^ 

“ Has she written anything of this sort?^^ cried he hastily, 
and coloring up as he spoke, while he passionately seized her 
hand. “ Precious grandma, be good! Tell me if she men- 
tioned heVy Bianca^ Does she think that Bianca likes me, 
too?""^ 

“Norman! Good heavens, how rude! Control yourself! 
Who is talking about Bianca? I said nothing — do you hear? 
Nothing at all; who is thinking of that? Why, you are just 
twenty-one years old."^^ 

But Norman had flung his arms around his grandmother^s 
neck, and despite her resistance imprinted two fervent kisses 
on her lips, and then most unceremoniously rushed out of the 
room. 

“ Orribile!^^ said the old lady, straightening her rumpled 
lace cap, “ he must love her to distraction already. If Stont- 
heim had seen him just now she would have reversed her judg- 
ment as to his being a real Derenberg. She remained lost 
in thought and seemed to be looking for something in the far- 
away past that she was reminded of by this scene of the pres- 
ent. Suddenly a memory came up before her of better days. 
She saw herself as a beautiful young girl, in the intoxication 
of a new-found rapture, falling upon the neck of her half -blind 
duenna and vehemently kissing her. And for what? Because 
outside on the balcony, beneath the blooming oleander, and 
in the soft evening air, a tall, slender man, speaking Italian 
with foreign accent, had been telling her so much of an old 
German castle environed by forests of green oak, and of an old 
German lady with honest blue eyes. . . . Her mouth as- 

sumed a milder expression as she thought of the joy then 
tasted. “ He has my blood in his veins too/^ said she. “ God 


44 


A TALE OF OLD CASTLE. 


grant that his desires in life may be more happily accomplished 
than mine have been!^^ Then she seated herself before her 
desk, and drew a picture of that future which was just begin- 
ning to dawn and tint the horizon with a rosy flush, and be- 
fore the eyes of her reverie the old castle once more stood 
arrayed in those robes of enchantment which had once been 
woven around it. 

Meanwhile Norman roved restlessly to and fro in the park. 
Awhile ago he had almost stifled his sister with caresses, telling 
her something incomprehensible about a new dress, a blue one 
such as Bianca wore; he had spoken to his mother (who could 
not understand the meaning of her son^s excited manner) 
concerning the necessity for recuperating her shattered health 
by a visit to some watering-place, if not this year, certainly the 
next. He had then gone with Nelly and old Henry into the 
rooms which he had selected for Bianca, and had arranged here 
and ordered there. His sister had been obliged to promise 
him her work-table and his mother^s flower-stand; then he had 
criticised the curtains and pictures, had taken out the latter 
and hung up others in their place, and several times declared 
to Nelly that he would have carpets and curtains ordered from 
his garrison, instead of that old faded furniture, and also a 
new livery for Henry. Lastly he had embraced his sister and 
asked if she really believed that Bianca would like it here, if 
ever so little, and if she did not think the view finest from this 
window? And without waiting for her answer he had added: 
“ No, little sister, how surprised you will be when you see her 
— how much surprised Thereupon he had gone out into the 
old park, and now wandered with long, hasty strides through 
the overgrown paths. He longed for the hour to come when 
he might set out, and soon be able to say to her that all at 
home were rejoicing in prospect of her visit. And evening 
came at last. After a short leave-taking, accompanied by the 
heartfelt reference to a speedy and glad return, he took his 
way to the little village, where he was to meet the stage. The 
night air was freighted with the sweet breath of spring flowers, 
and at the park-gate he broke off a bunch of lilacs in full 
bloom, a greeting to bear Bianca from his native place. And 
at last, at last, the postilion blew his horn, and he rode out 
into the quiet country, absorbed in a thousand blissful imagi- 
nations. 

But over there at the mill a window was gently opened, and 
a brown-haired maiden leaned her head far out, and looked 
across at the main road, with moist and longing eyes. She 
knew that he was going away again that evening; he had told 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE, 


45 


her so himself, and she had waited and waited for him the 
whole day, but he had not come; and hark! there was the 
post-horn resounding through the stillness of the night. How 
sad was that sound! A gentle echo called back from the 
forest, and softly, quite softly, the window closed again. 


OHAPTEE VI. 

Next day the weather was bad. The sky was hidden from 
view by clouds of a dull and uniformly leaden hue, and a gen- 
tle rain drizzled ruthlessly down, regardless of apple blossoms 
and lilac bloom. In the afternoon Lieschen stood upstairs in 
her own little room, and looked, with melancholy air, far away 
over the wet garden, at the castle hidden from view, as were 
its towers by a veil of grayish mist. 

This had been a right disagreeable day; everything went 
contrary. Something had gone wrong in father ^s business; 
auntie was out of humor, because Dorothy had not shut the 
stable-door, behind which the turkey-hen made her home with 
her seven little ones, and now they were all out in tKe rain, 
contrary to every rule; the little things would all die not^^'she 
prophesied, for were they not already sitting there in drooping 
fashion, rolling their eyes? Dorothy had gotten a good scold- 
ing, and was going mournfully about the house with eyes red 
from weeping; and besides all this, who must arrive to-day but 
that young Mr. Selldorf, who was to take a share in her fa- 
therms business, and he had dined with the family. Usually 
when business men came they took their meals in the house 
where they lodged, for Mr. Irving did not like his domestic 
privacy to be broken in upon; but an exception had been made 
in this case because the young man^s father was his intimate 
friend. So, then, that light-haired gentleman, with extensive 
blue craval;, had sat opposite Lieschen and looked at her from 
time to time, which he was by no means required to do, and 
then the conversation had turned upon his father, the con- 
dition of trade, and his motherms state of health — and oh! how 
tiresome she had found all this. To crown all, Lieschen had 
forgotten to feed her doves, for the first time since she had un- 
dertaken that office, and now she must needs find fault with 
herself. What could ail her? And then came the thoughts of 
yesterday, when she had sat with her work under the linden- 
tree before the front door, until it grew dark, and every time 
that any figure emerged from between the trees over there she 
had started and her heart had beaten violently, and then it 
had always turned out to be some wholly indifferent person 


46 


JL TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE, 


coming along the road — at last nobody better than Betsey, the 
old beggar-woman — and then she had run upstairs and fairly 
cried. 

Almost indignantly she shook her head as she made confes- 
sion to herself^ and blushed again and again at the bare recol- 
lection that she had risen from her couch more than once last 
night (just because her thoughts would not let her sleep), to 
open the window and listen for the post-horn that the driver 
blew from the coach-box, in which Norman — yes, Norman — 
had ridden away so soon again. 

And then the weather is so horrid, too!^^ said she sudden- 
ly in a low tone, taking down GeibeFs poems from the book- 
shelf, ‘‘ else Nelly at least would come.-^^ She seated herself 
on the little lounge, rested her head in her hands, and turned 
over the leaves of the book without giving more than a fugi- 
tive glance at the graceful poems that she commonly delighted 
so in reading. Then quickly she lifted her head and turned 
toward the door in a listening attitude, when, to be sure, 
there came auntie^s well-known step along the passage, and 
immediately afterward her pleasant face, from under its snow- 
white cap, peeped in at the door. 

“ For Heaven^s sake, Lieschen, why are you hiding here?^^ 
asked she, fetching a long breath. All day your face has 
been as sour as vinegar, and now you are sitting here reading 
instead of helping old auntie a bit down-stairs. You know to- 
day is Thursday, when the pastures family are to come. Doro- 
thy is clear daft on account of the scolding she got, and is 
grumbling over preparations for company. You had better 
come and help to cook the doves, or scrape the asparagus — not 
so easy that, but you need such experience for future use; 
where a woman is a good housekeeper there bacon hangs in 
plenty from the rafters. But it does me good to see how 
prettily you have arranged things here,^^ said she, interrupting 
herself as she surveyed the lovely little room, with its white 
varnished furniture covered with blue and white striped chintz 
and muslin window-curtains, presenting a perfect model of 
what a young lady’s room should be. And only see how 
that myrtle is thriving! Yes, and that puts me in mind of 
what brought me up here. . Nelly has sent you a note, which 
Henry brought. ” She took a little folded sheet of paper out 
of the linen pocket that she wore underneath her apron, and 
handed it to Lieschen, who quickly opened it and read. 

Only think, auntie,” said she, in surprise, they are ex- 
pecting a visitor at the castle! Nelly is amazingly glad. It 
is a cousin. Miss Bianca von Derenberg, and Norman, too, is 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


47 


coming home on furlough, and I am to visit her then right 
often/ ^ 

Ah, indeed?^^ asked the old lady. 

Yes; Nelly writes that she would have told me herself, but 
has not time to come to-day, for she must help to fix up the 
young lady’s room/’ 

Are you certain that she has just learned this?” asked the 
old lady. 

^^Ah, no,” said Lieschen. ‘‘Norman came here on that 
very account, Nelly writes me word.” 

“Has Norman been here?” asked the old lady, looking 
across in astonishment at the young girl, who had suddenly 
flushed crimson. “ When was that?” 

“ On Nelly’s birthday,” sounded softly back. 

“ Only to see! And you did not say a word about it, Lies- 
chen? You used to tell me evei’ything! Do tell me, Lies- 
chen, why you kept so silent?” she asked once more. 

“ Because I did not want to hear you talk of him again, 
calling him proud and stuck up. ” 

“ And why did you not like to hear that, Lieschen?” 

“ Because it is not true, because he only did not have the 
time — else he would have come.” 

She suddenly burst into tears; and with those bitter tears 
all yesterday’s disappointed expectation found also vent. 

“But, Lieschen, my goodness, what does this mean? Are 
you not ashamed to cry so for nothing? What in this world 
is Norman to you?” The old woman spoke with temper, but 
to a close observer it was evident that a heavy burden had 
fallen upon her heart. “ I thought you would not care for 
what I said about Norman. Your paths and his no longer 
run parallel, as they did in childhood; he is now a grown man 
and you a grown woman. , What is to be understood by such 
an outburst of weeping?” 

But Lieschen threw her arms around the old woman’s neck. 

“Ah, auntie, do not be angry!” sobbed she; “it is right 
childish of me, but I can not bear to hear you talk about them 
over at the castle; you see, we used always to play so pleas- 
antly together, and it always strikes me as though you wanted 
pitilessly to wipe out all those sweet memories, when you talk 
against Nelly and Norman.” 

Old Marian shook her head. “ Child,” she said, then, “ if 
you only knew what bitter sorrow befell our house from that 
quarter!” 

“But Norman and Nelly are not to answer for that, are 


48 A TALE OF aK OLD CASTLE. 

No — but — 

‘^You are always saying: ‘We ought to forgive our 
enemies.^ 

“But there is a wrong too hard to be forgotten, when it 
comes so close to one as — 

“ Ah, never mind, though, auntie coaxed Lieschen, look- 
ing up into her face and smiling through her tears. “ I^’ll not 
be so silly as to cry again, but then, neither must you scold 
any more. 1^11 go down with you now directly, and help you 
broil the doves till they are brown and crisp, just as father 
likes them. Yes? And have you brought in radishes from 
the garden already, or must I do it?^^ She begged and coaxed 
till the old woman gave her a kiss, and then as they crossed 
over the dark entrance-hall of the upper stofy, where stood 
huge old presses full of house-linen and clothes, involuntarily 
Marian looked across at one of the doors, and an uneasy sigh 
accompanied the glance. 

“ That used to be Lisette^s room,^^ said she, with a certain 
emphasis in her tone. 

The young girl nodded and bounded down the steps. It is 
true that she had often heard of Lisette; she knew that she 
was her great-aunt and Marian always pronounced the name 
with a certain solemnity, but she had never been told anything 
more particularly, so that she did not feel much interested in 
the room that she had occupied. But she was ashamed now 
of having wept so childishly before auntie. What must she 
think of her? At least that she cared for — She blushed 
and did not complete the thought, but began to sing, while 
she ran into the sitting-room to welcome the pastor and his 
wife. 

But Marian followed her with anxious looks. “ Father in 
heaven,^^ murmured she, “ in pity spare us a second such 
misfortune! For it is a misfortune; nothing good has come 
from there since that old lady set foot in the castle. Lord 
God, shield the maiden from such thoughts! She herself is 
unconscious of it yet, but it is true, what I heard — she is fond 
of Norman. Oh! gracious God, how is help to be fpund?^^ 

And old Marian racked and racked her brain while she was 
working out her bread for supper in the kitchen that fairly 
shone with neatness, and when every now and trfn the sound 
of Lieschen^s clear voice reached her ear from the sitting-room 
slie would shake her head. And at the supper-table she 
watched stealthily that laughing countenance, from which the 
last traces of tears had disappeared. A cheerful company that 
was which in the cool dining-room sat about a great round 


A TALE OF A]n^ OLD CASTLE. 


49 


table covered with snowy damask. The master of the house 
with his benevolent face and full, flowing beard, the pastor 
whose manners showed how much he enjoyed sitting as a guest 
at his old friend^s table, and Eosina, his plump little wife, who 
was always in a good humor, although she had a whole tribe of 
little ones at home, who followed each other like stair-steps, 
and for whom she often did not know where to get frocks and 
jackets. Even on these Thursday evenings at the mill, where 
she went to refresh herself after the toils of the week, she 
could hardly sit on the sofa beside Mrs. Irving without a child^s 
stocking in her hand, at which she would diligently knit, and 
then it not seldom happened that her friend would smilingly 
lay a whole bundle of ready-knit stockings in her lap: There, 
dear Eosina, I have tried to help you a little bit; now let your 
stockings be, just for this one evening, and sing us a song!^^ 
And then the pasture's wife would sing some simple song in her 
sweet soprano voice. But afterward she would mechanic- 
ally pick up her knitting again and say, while she laugh- 
ed at herself for it: “Never mind, Minnie! I can not 
help it."^^ The mistress of the house was in uncommonly 
fine spirits this evening, and with Eosina spun long yarns 
about management and housekeeping. And Lieschen talked 
playfully with her father and the pastor by turns. Old Marian 
alone was quiet, and during the whole evening had not even a 
smile for the compliments paid her skillful cookery; not a sip 
did she take of the fragrant Moselle wine that stood before her 
so temptingly in its green goblet. 

“Do you know, pastor, asked the miller, “that 1 have 
with me now a son of our old school-mate Selldorf 

“ Selldorf ^s son! Ah, indeed! How has the world fared 
with him?^'' 

“ He has a great factory for chemicals in Turingen.^^ 

“ Eh, fine for him! And the young man?^^ 

“ The young man is going to put his oar into my business, 
because the old one intends to establish a paper-factory, vul- 
garly called a rag-mill. For the rest he has had good luck; 
he entered the business in which he now is as book-keeper, 
married his principaFs only daughter, and was a made man; 
he has a shrewd head and is a character out and out. But 
you must t^ke some opportunity of seeing the young fellow for 
yourself, who is strikingly like his father, the same light curly 
pate and the same eyes. I thought 1 had grown young again 
when he stood before me. 

“ Where does he stay?^^ 

“ Over there in our house of business. I shall not treat him 


so Jl tale of AH OLD CASTLE. 

at all differently from the other young men. To-day he dined 
with us, but that is enough. You know I do not allow my 
family circle to be invaded. 

The pastor nodded. I really must see him some day. But 
what; says Lieschen on the subject?^^ asked he, playfully, of 
the young girl. 

Nothing, uncle, answered she. 

That is* but a little,^^ laughed he. But, by the way, 
Lieschen, that reminds me that Norman has been here. I 
saw him coming from the stage when he had just arrived, 
well and good! What a handsome fellow he has grown to be! 
Did you see him, my dear?^^ « 

Lieschen nodded, but blushed deeply: auntie did look across 
at her too sharply, 

I am mortified, though,^^ exclaimed the pastor, that he 
did not deem it worth his while to come a single time to see 
us; it is not handsome of him to forget his old teacher — he 
gets that from the old baroness. 

You are not the only one who has cause to complain,^^ 
said Mrs. Irving. He has not been here either. But Nelly 
comes to us. 

A charming girl,^^ put in the pastures wife. 

“ So exactly like her grandfather,^^ now chimed in old 
Marianas voice. ‘‘ What a man he was! Well, but you know, 
‘ Whom the Lord loveth He chastiseth. ^ 

Did he indeed live so very unhappily with his lady?’^ 
asked the pastures wife, turning to the old woman. 

Oh, madame, when she entered misfortune followed close 
behind; she did not only ruin her own family, but brought 
anguish and sorrow enough to other houses. 

Yes, she must have managed dreadfully, acquiesced the 
minister; at least I have heard as much from the villagers. 

‘‘ My family could pipe to the same tune, could they not, 
auntie?^^ asked the miller. 

The Almighty only knows, cried the old woman, “ how 
many tears have been shed on that woman^s account! But 
God has recompensed her for it all,^^ nodded she, hastily ris- 
ing and leaving the room. 

It would do no earthly harm,^^ murmured she as she then 
entered her own chamber and once more thought over all that 
troubled her so much; it would do no earthly harm if I were 
to tell Lieschen that story; it might give her some little idea 
of what sort of people they are over there. 

^rhen she stood up, sought out a key^ went softly out of her 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE* 51 

room on to the steps, and unlocked the door to Lisette’s little 
room. 

It was a small room that she entered, and in the twilight 
already prevailing the different articles of simple furniture 
could hardly be distinguished. Between the windows stood a 
bureau ornamented with brass, and on it a looking-glass in a 
carved wooden frame that was queerly decorated at the top; a 
small bedstead with a green counterpane, on the center of 
which was painted a clumsy garland of roses; before the bed 
was a tiny little three-legged table with a star inlaid in its 
smooth top; and against the wall opposite a high-backed 
slender-legged sofa, that creaked painfully when Marian took 
her seat upon tt; over the bed hung a little black crucifix un- 
der a gay picture, that represented a maiden with a dove in 
her hand, but between the bed and window, place had been 
found for a wardrobe inlaid with figures cut out of dark wood, 
while at the other window stood a small work-table, with a 
high-backed chair before it. Under the looking-glass hung a 
withered wreath, tied with pale-blue ribbons, that contrasted 
strangely with a bunch of sweet fresh lilacs in the old cut- 
glass tumbler on the bureau. This last token of love was 
placed here by Marian regularly every year when the lilacs 
flowered — the former inmate of this chamber had loved lilacs 
so much, and this season always awoke a painfully sweet 
memory in. the old woman^s heart. So this evening she sat 
once again in dear Lisette^s little room, and in her soul min- 
gled the past and present; it seemed to her as if she were once 
more a blooming young girl, and her friend^s slender figure 
stood over there by the window, and her blue eyes were directed 
so longingly toward the southern castle tower. He is com- 
ing, Marian, he is coming — I have seen his light, at one 
period this had often been her exclamation, and at the same 
time she would clap her hands for joy, and then they had gone 
down into the garden and there, in the shady jasmine bower 
had then sat as handsome and happy a pair of lovers as every 
exchanged vows in all the purity of true devotion — And 
then? 

Then she had lain upon that bed, her fair form wasted away 
beneath the burden of her grief, her cheeks were blanched and 
her blue eyes glaring with fever. Was it not enough, to have 
to witness such tortures once? Lord God, shield my dar- 
ling, my Lieschen!^^ prayed she, leaning her head upon the 
back of the sofa. Her tightly clasped hands fell helplessly 
into her lap, while tears forced their way to her aged eyes. 

Just then a pair of sma^ hands clasped hers; a soft cheek 


52 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


was pressed fondly against her own, and when she looked up, 
a pair of deep-blue eyes met her glance, and a sweet voice 
asked: 

‘^Why are you crying, auntie? Are you still vexed with 
me?^^ 

The old lady did not reply immediately; at that instant she 
seemed to see a lovely apparition, but recovering herself she 
asked: “ How came you here, Lieschen?^^ 

‘‘ Forgive me, auntie! I looked for you down in your own 
room. You talk so much about some Baron Fritz and my 
great-aunt Lisette, that I thought I would beg you to tell me 
something of them, and so 1 followed you here. 

Then you have come at a good hour, Lieschen! Let them 
talk away down-stairs. Nobody knows so well as I do who 
have lived through it all. Indeed 1 would not have you know 
for a long while yet how disjointed things are in this life; but 
it is better for you. Come, sit down — 

The young girl obeyed, after she had cast a shy glance around 
the room into which she had only peeped once before, when a 
small child, and the old woman smoothed down her apron, 
and as she folded her hands again, made ready to speak. But 
still she kept silence, and looked down as though in embar- 
rassment. Must she tell that young child so sad a tale, and 
sow in her pure soul the seeds of hatred, ill-will, and suspicion? 
The young girl who sat there in silent expectation at her side 
was still a child; assuredly Norman would soon be banished 
from her mind; so, she durst not tell that pitiful tale. And 
yet — if it should be repeated again, and she had not warned her 
pet! ‘^Oh! Thou gracious God!^^ murmured she, under her 
breath, “ what can I do?^-" 

Open the window first, Lieschen, she begged; the air 
here is so close. 

The young girl opened both shutters; the rain had ceased; 
only now and then, among the old trees, a few drops fell, 
shower-like, from leaf to leaf; and whiffs of that fresh smell 
of earth were wafted into the little room, such as always fills 
the air after a rain. 

Lieschen, whtejpered she. 

“ Auntie?^"' returned the maiden, fondly stroking her 
wrinkled face. 

Lieschen, you — I think it would be better for you not to 
go and see Nelly so often— after, I mean, later, when Norman 
is there again, and that cousin, said she, apologetically, as 


A TALE OF A]Sr OLD CASTLE. 53 

Lieschen turned toward her with an expression of surprise. 

You see, it is not — I — she stammered and was silent. 

Let that be now; rather tell about Lisette,^ said the 
young girl coaxingly, in dread lest her old friend might resume 
the theme on wliich they had differed awhile ago. 

What should I tell of Lisette?^^ cried the old woman, pas- 
sionately; this I say, that she was the loveliest creature in 
the wide world, and that she had to die, only because — because 
— listen, Lieschen, if you ever hear any one say aught against 
5 ^our great-aunt, contradict it, for never beat a purer heart, 
nor was ever one broken in so shameful a manner — 

She was silent for awhile. 

/‘Go no more to the castle, Lieschen!’^ continued she, 
grasping the girFs hand and pressing it vehemently. “ You 
see, I can not tell you everytffing just as it was; it tviU not 
pass my lips; hereafter you shall learn about it, but believe 
me there bodes no good — the old baroness — the — 

“ Does that have anything to do with Aunt Lisette’s story 
asked the maiden. “ Say, auntie, please, please. 

“ 1 neither say yes nor no, Lieschen, replied she; “ but 
this I do say, that we have not seen the end yet, and that if 
affairs do get worse than now with that woman, and she should 
come begging to this house, I would thrust her away, and let 
her go further, for where she enters there comes a curse for 
evermore, and for once in life I shall still tell her to her face 
that she has — 

“ Auntie cried out Lieschen, with a deprecatory gesture, 
in a tone of such anguish that the old woman paused horror- 
struck. 

“ It is well,^^ murmured she. “ I shall say nothing further. 
But you must not be unhappy, like Lisette. " I could not live 
it over again, if — Alas! child, I do not want to grieve you. 
I would only warn you, Lieschen, continued she, as she drew 
the sobbing maiden to her breast. “ You shall not slight your 
little friend for anything in the world; but, you see, when one 
is young, foolish thoughts will come in. Lieschen, child, 
whispered she anxiously, “ say if you feel that 1 mean well.^^ 

Lieschen nodded. “Yes, I know that you mean well, 
auntie, but — She paused; there was a weight upon her 
spirit, such a weight as she had never felt before in all her 
life. 

Down in the sitting-room they were still chatting pleasantly 
together of old times, of the lovely Lisette and Baron Fritz, and 
now the little pastor^s wife arose and seated herself at the 
piano, and sung with her thrilling voice: 


64 


A TALE OF OLD CASTLE. 


“ A willow o^er a mound bends low 
Where birds and zephyrs come and go, 

Beneath sit courting on the grass 
A yeoman and his blooming lass. 
******* 

The winds they blow so cold and chill! 

The birdling’s song, though sweet, how shrill! 

No sound betrays two lovers nigh, 

Silent, they weep, yet know not why.” 

But where is our Lieschen?^^ she then asked. She must 
sing for me too. 

And Lieschen was still sitting upstairs by Marianas side, and 
as she listened to the words of the song coming up from below, 
she too wept — and yet could not herself have told why. It 
seemed as though a ml of mist fell down before her eyes, 
shutting her olf from those golden days of early youth, with 
their merry games, their sunshine and wealth of blossoms, and 
two laughing child-faces disappeared further and further into 
the background, and the mist grew thicker and thicker, until 
it built itself up into a high wall, and in front of it stood the 
proud, fair lady of the castle as she appeared up yonder in the 
portrait-gallery, with those marvelous dark eyes and that blue 
velvet robe — and she stretched out her hands to her, as 
though waving her off, with such words as these: ‘‘What 
would you have here? This is enchanted ground, and you 
belong not to us. You are the miller^s Lieschen, turn back, 
else it will be your death. Eemember Lisette, pretty Lisette, 
and — Then she jumped up quickly and fled from that little 
room to her own chamber. And when she got there she threw 
herself on the bed and wept in bitter agony for a something the 
significance of which she did not rightly comprehend; but this 
she knew that, with its loss, life was left to her empty and 
desolate. 

But Marian stood at her door and listened to the sobbing go- 
ing on inside. “ Oh, Lord,^^ said she, softly, “ I was right; 
she does love him, even Norman; it were high time, too, that 
the warning had been given; it is better for her to weep now 
than hereafter. Poor thing, yes — a first love like that is too 
sweet — 

And down-stairs the guests were fast taking their leave, and 
Marian distinctly heard these words that accompanied “ good- 
night.'^^ “ Yes, yes, Frederick; such is life,^^ said the pastor, 
as a conclusion to the conversation that had gone before. “ It 
has mingled joy and sorrow— well, if we are met together here 
to-night as old people, to sit and talk over old times, yet, I 
hope, it has gone better with us than with the people we 


A TALE OF OLD CASTLE, 


55 


talked of this evening, and so we can say to our grandchildren: 
Look, children, we have had better fortune than we deserved. 
Why, Frederick, I can see you already as a grandfather, and 
Lieschen established here at the mill with a fine husband. It 
will ai] come about, just as with us to-day. Well, God keep 
you till we meet again at Easter, the second feast — you will 
come to us for the third, must they not, Eosina?^^ 

Good-night, good-night! Give our love to Lieschen and 
auntie 

And it grew still in the house; only in Lieschen^s little room 
those bitter sobs had not 3^et ceased; and not until a late hour 
did the old woman descend the stairs and go into her own small 
chamber. She sleeps now,^’ murmured she. God grant 
her a glad awakening, and renewed pleasure in life — and some 
day plenty of love and happiness! She is so young still, so 
young, and life is so hard and long for the most of us — yes, 
for almost all!^^ 


CHAPTEK VIL 

The Saturday evening before Easter had come, and smilingly 
the golden sun shone down upon the earth out of a clear blue sky. 
Already he had kissed into life the many roses in the paper-mill 
garden, peeped through the dainty white curtains into the 
rooms, and burned hotly upon the sandstone bench before the 
front door. Old Marian stood in the garden gathering flowers 
and putting them into her apron; Lieschen was helping her— 
she wore a large round straw hat, and garden gloves upon her 
little hands, and she sought for and clipped off the very pret- 
tiest flowers. The expression of her face had greatly altered; 
the look in the eyes was entirely different from what it used to 
be, and by no means so joyous as befitted such a lovely day of 
spring, and old Marian was tenderer toward her than ever. A 
few swallows flew chirping past them and then soared aloft into 
the blue ether. In the house everything was already bright 
and clean; even the windows in the old-fashioned room of state 
stood wide open, to let in everywhere heaven^s fresh breezes, 
and everywhere penetrated the odor of good things preparing 
for the feast. Over in the business offices and manufacturing 
rooms the clattering and stamping of the wheels had stopped 
‘at an early hour to-day. The workmen as well were prepare 
ing to keep the feast at home. Mr. Irving gladly allowed 
them such a- holiday — ^work afterward went on so much the 
more cheerily. 

The book-keeper and two other young men had left 


56 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


counting-house early in the morning, singing as they set off to 
make a little Easter excursion, and now only Mr. Selldorf was 
left behind alone. Well satisfied, he walked to and fro along 
the alder path skirting the mill brook, amusing himself with 
the sunbeams that illuminated the water to its very depths, 
and with the myriads of tiny fishes that darted about so comic- 
ally in such a sunny spot. At times, too, he cast stolen 
glances across at the garden, to try and catch a glimpse of a 
large straw hat trimmed with blue corn-flowers, underneath 
which shone a pair of such deep, true eyes as he had never seen 
before in all his life. 

At the open window of the sitting-room, which looked to- 
ward the garden, sat Mrs. Irving sewing sky-blue knots of rib- 
bon upon a white dress for her Lieschen to wear at the festi- 
val. She had beckoned to her husband, who had just come 
in, and now directed his attention to the two figures there 
among the flowers in the garden. 

Only see, Frederick, how auntie does pet that girl!^^ said 
she, smiling. She has always spoiled her; but lately it has 
been worse than ever; since Lieschen has been looking so pale 
these last few days, it seems as though she could not do enough 
for the child. 

Let her be, Minnie, replied Irving. She is well taken 
care of by auntie; but you are right, she has looked a little 
pale, our Lieschen; and do you know what has struck me? 
She has not been to the castle for a full week, although Nelly 
has been here three times meanwhile. 

Well, now, it is just some girlish freak; may be the two 
have had some little falling out — but I know she is going there 
to-morrow certainly — at. least I think she spoke of it.^^ 

To-morrow asked Irving. Hem! but Selldorf is to be 
our guest then. What are we to do with him all by our- 
selves?^^ 

“Oh! she will not stay long up there; they have visitors at 
the castle, the cousin of whom Nelly told us, and Norman, but 
Lieschen has been always in the habit of calling on them every 
holiday to offer her good wishes, and she could hardly omit it 
this time.^^ All this Mrs. Irving said in a half-apologetic 
tone. 

Mr. Irving nodded abstractedly. “ He is a fine fellow, that 
Selldorf,^'' said he, after awhile. His wife looked at him and 
smiled, whereupon he laughed in return. 

“ Now I know what you are thinking of, old fellow,^^ cried 
she, merrily. 

He stooped down to her. “ Keally, Minnie? Well, and 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


57 


would it be so bad? You see I must have a son-in-law some 
day who can carry on the business, and he is a splendid fellow; 
I have learned to know him — the same upright character as 
his father. 

‘‘ Husband/^ said she — and her fine, large eyes looked up 
at him almost in entreaty — please make no plans! She is 
hardly more than a child yet.-’^ 

“Were you any older when you became my wife, Minnie 

“No, Frederick, but — 

“ And have we not been happy together up to this time, and 
shall we not be so to the end?'’^ 

She nodded and pressed her handkerchief to her eyes. “ I 
did not mean that,'’^ said she, while he seized her hand and 
put his arm around her waist, but I would so gladly have 
her all to myself a little longer, for who knows how long I — 
she broke ofi and tried to force back the gushing tears. 
“ Never mind,^^ said she when she observed how his counte- 
nance changed and what a melancholy expression passed over 
it, “ my heart feels so heavy to-day — do not go away!^^ Again 
she looked up at him with a smile. “ You see, Frederick, I 
too shall rejoice to see her well married, but her husband must 
be as good and as honorable as you yourself. 

He looked affectionately into her eyes.^ “ He must be one 
of the very best,^^ said he, emphatically," “ and you shall be 
the one to decide. 

“ Frederick, caid she, thoitghtfully, as she watched the 
slender form of her daughter, who was advancing up the gar- 
den walk with her apron full of fiowers, “ Frederick, I must 
pay attention now to your friend Selldorf. 

“ Do so, Minnie,^^ replied he, letting ^her hand go. “ You 
will form the acquaintance of a worthy man. And so saying 
he kissed her tenderly on the forehead and left her alone with 
her dreams. The light work slipped out of her lap — her 
thoughts roved into a far-off future, and gradually a sweet, 
pleasant smile relaxed her features. 

And now the first day of Easter had dawned. Before the 
front door of the mill stood two tall, straight May-poles, and 
from the topmost branches red ribbons fioated to the breeze. 
The doves all sat in rows on the top of the roof cooing and 
preening their feathers, and Peter, who so proudly reined in his 
spirited pair of bays from the elevation of his driver^s seat, 
had just tied a red streamer to his whip. The sides of the 
comfortable open carriage were decked with fresh green 
boughs. All was in readiness, and soon came clanging from 
the village below the sound of the church bells, and Peggy — 


58 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


Dorothy had to stay at home to-day and cook — passed by the 
carriage, gotten np in finest Sunday style, giving Peter a furtive 
nod as she did so. Now the master came out of the door, and 
supported his wife to the carriage. Lieschen and Aunt Marian 
got in next. The former looked prettier than ever in her airy 
white muslin and blue ribbons, and Aunt Marian was gorgeous- 
ly arrayed in black silk, with a cap trimmed for the occasion 
with lace and blue ribbons. In her hand she held a hymn- 
book, handkerchief, and a little nosegay. Lieschen, too, had 
a few rosebuds in her hand. 

Dorothy shut the carriage door with a courtesy. 

Do not let the pullets get scorched,^^ was Aunt Marianas 
last word of warning. 

‘^Certainly not,^"" replied she, and then added, looking up 
at the young girl: Pray with me for it. Miss Lieschen. 

Why that request of me, Dorothy?^^ asked she, smiling. 

Oh, because I feel as if the dear Lord must delight in 
you!^^ was the honest girPs reply. 

Mr. Irving laughed. Move on, Peter; go ahead!- ^ and so 
the carriage rolled away toward the village; and those who sat 
in it had enough to do in responding to the many greetings 
which were extended to them from all sides. At the pastor^s 
house a perfect rain of fiowers fell into Lieschen^s lap, and the 
little urchins hid themselves chuckling behind the hedge, in 
order to run out as soon as the carriage had passed and cry out 
after it, “ Good-morning, Aunt Lieschen, Aunt Lieschen. 

At the church door stood Mr. Selldorf in waiting; he blushed 
over and over, as he offered his hand in helping Lieschen out 
of the carriage, and asked Mr. Irving^ s permission to sit in his 
pew, tod so during the sermon he sat beside her on the bench, 
for her parents, with Aunt Marian, had taken their seats in 
front of them. Honor to whom honor is due!^^ Mrs. Irv- 
ing and the pastor^s wife, who sat with her two eldest children 
in the preacher^s pew, exchanged significant glances; and Mr. 
Otto Selldorf, who looked around in the little church where 
the religious community had assembled in goodly numbers, 
thought he observed that all eyes were directed toward his 
charming neighbor. But there she sat with eyes cast down, 
her little clasped hands folded in her lap, and her lips slightly 
moving, and it did seem to her neighbor, at one time, as 
though he distinctly saw a great shining tear fall upon her 
white dress. But no, he must be mistaken; it was not possi- 
ble — what cause could such a charming young creature as that 
have for weeping — and least of all on such a glorious Easter- 
day? 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE, 


59 


And indeed when the pastor had pronounced the benediction 
and the congregation joined in the doxology, she looked up 
and the expression of her blue eyes was once more calm and 
cheerful. 

As they drove home Lieschen enjoyed the sunshine and 
signs of animation all along the road. At the great linden-tree 
Peter had his orders to halt, and Lieschen got out. Give my 
love to Nelly, Lieschen Aunt Marian called out after her, 
and at a gentle pace she moved forward along the shady path. 
It is true that her heart began to beat just as soon as she 
turned into the Linden avenue; she took off her hat and walked 
slower; but there stood the grand portal already in front of 
her, and the two stone bears seemed to-day to lift up their 
paws more threateningly than ever. She stood still and 
pressed her hand against her throbbing heart; she would much 
rather have turned around, but what would Nelly think if she 
did not come at all — Nelly, to whom she had been accustomed 
to pay daily visits? She would be sure to believe that she 
stood in awe of her strange cousin. No, she must go for- 
ward! 

She rapidly walked to the end of the avenue, but then again 
stood still — from surprise — for not a great way off, on the sod, 
in the shadow of the magnificent old trees that edged the lawn 
in front of the castle before a sandstone bench, stood a table 
ready set, and at the foot of it sat the young baroness in an 
arm-chair, but so that her back was turned to the approaching 
maiden; her mother-in-law had taken her place just opposite, 
and was eagerly reading a newspaper. A number of cups and 
plates showed evidently that they had taken advantage of the 
fine morning to breakfast in the open air. Lieschen did not 
venture to go. nearer. The old lady lifted her eyes and per- 
ceived the young girl. At sight of her she started, by her 
movement knocking off the table a pretty cup that fell with a 
crash upon the stone bench. And yet, before Lieschen could 
reach the table, she called out to her angrily; 

“ How rude, to frighten us so!^^ 

1 beg pardon, said Lieschen, turning to the old baroness, 

I had been here several minutes before I ventured to attract 
your attention, fearing to disturb you.""^ Her quiet words 
were in singular contrast to the old baronesses passionate ex- 
clamation. And,ee continued she, I have only come for a 
few minutes to wish you all a pleasant holiday, as I have been 
in the habit of doing every year, and to see Nelly for a little 
while, 

Take a seat, Lieschen/^ the younger baronesses de*’ 


60 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


sire. Nelly will be here directly; she has gone to walk a 
little in the park with Bianca and Norman, and — there she is 
already; I hear her voice. 

The old lady impatiently shrugged her shoulders, as 
Lieschen quietly seated herself on the stone bench, and in a 
tone of sympathy inquired as to the health of the pale lady, 
from whose cheeks the passing flush had again vanished, which 
had been called forth by her mother-in-law^s sharp address. 

Meanwhile the voices came nearer, and Lieschen plainly dis- 
tinguished the deep, melodious tones of her quondam playfel- 
low. A burning, stifling sensation came over her, for an in- 
stant bewildering her thoughts, but then her eyes assumed an 
expression of highest astonishment, for there, at the side of the 
empty sandstone basin to the fountain, she caught sight of a 
young lady, the striking singularity of whose appearance en- 
chained her whole attention. Was it a grown lady or only a 
child, who sat her horse with such fairy-like grace? And now 
she called out with a sweet voice, but the intonation of a 
spoiled child: 

‘‘ Let go, Norman, let go! I toill let my aunt see me ride 
alone 

Norman stepped back, and the horse began to advance to- 
ward them at a slow Spanish trot; at every movement made 
by the animal her white dress trimmed with lace flew like a 
misty cloud about the graceful flgure that sat so firmly in the 
saddle; the eyes were deep-set in a pallid countenance, but 
above the brow and in flowing waves down her back glittered 
and flashed in the sunlight a wealth of glorious red hair. 

“ Superb, Bianca!^^ cried Norman, whose glance hung as 
though spell-bound on the charming apparition; ‘^superb! 
Mademoiselle Elise at the circus could ride no better. 

For some distance he walked slowly along at her side and 
then stopped close by the table, for the horse turned of itself 
and came directly up to the group. The eyes of the old baron- 
ess sparkled for joy, she had herself been once a much-admired 
horsewoman, and esteemed that sport as one of the noblest of 
passions. 

Meraviglia, my angel!^^ cried she, as the young lady halt- 
ed and assisted by Norman leaped lighted from the saddle. 
‘‘You have marvelous command over your horse, but, mia 
car a, how can you ride in 'this hot sun without a hat? I be- 
seech you — your wonderful complexion! In the country one 
always has to — 

“ Do not trouble yourself, aunt; I never burn.^^ She then 
dropped carelessly into an arm-chair, drawn up for her by Nor- 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 61 

man, without taking any notice of the young lady on the other 
side. 

Miss Elizabeth Irving, ISTelly^s friend, said the younger 
baroness, at this instant introducing them with a wave of her 
hand, “and my niece, Bianca von Derenbergl^^ Bianca 
elevated her eyebrows and replied with a slight nod of the 
head, but without altering her comfortable posture, to the 
young girFs graceful bow. Her dark eyes, however, did fasten 
upon her for a moment with surprise; then she caught at the 
ivory fan that hung at her side, unfolded it, and behind its 
shelter indulged in a yawn. 

Norman had bowed politely, and to his mother^s question as 
to Nellyas whereabouts had replied that she was still probably 
somewhere in the park. At this moment Henry came and led 
away the horse — the old man looked so stately in his new 
brown livery that Lieschen at first did not recognize him, and 
looked at him in amazement. The young lady in the arm- 
chair took good note of this, for a somewhat scornful smile 
flitted momentarily about the small, full mouth; she rocked 
somewhat more violently than before, but suddenly stopped. 

“What do 3^ou do here all day long?’^ asked she, while 
another yawn disappeared behind the fan. 

“We are to go to walk this afternoon, eagerly answered 
Norman, “ there are delightful walks in the woods here.^^ 

“ To go to lualkr’ 

“ Alas, we have no equipage at our command,^^ simply re- 
marked the younger baroness. 

The old baroness smiled scornfully. “ That remark was 
very superfluous, Cornelia. 

“Do you not like to go walking. Cousin Bianca?^^ asked 
Norman, who had placed himself in a chair opposite his 
mother. 

“ No!^^ she declared without lifting up her eyes. 

The young officer bit his lip. 

“ Might we not ask the bailiff to let us have the use of his 
carriage for a couple of hours?^^ he then asked. “ What think 
you of it, grandmamma?^^ 

“ That it is rather a remarkable idea on your part, Nor- 
man. You can hardly expect any one to take a seat in such 
an antiquated old coach as that.^^ 

“But grandmamma! However, I believe that we could 
liardly get the use of that carriage to-day in any case, for the 
family usually take a little pleasure-ride themselves on Sun- 
days. 


62 


A TALE OF AFT OLD CASTLE. 


Once for all, Norman, I decline such an arrangement,^’ 
repeated the old lady with a gesture of displeasure. 

May I be allowed to offer our carriage?” asked Lieschen. 

It would certainly give father great pleasure to — ” 

That would be a way out of our difficulty!” cried Nor- 
man. If you please, Bianca, weTl accept Miss Lieschen’s 
offer — shall we not, grandmamma?” 

I thank you,” replied the latter; but Bianca said neither 
yes nor no; but only measured the young girl sitting over there 
in simple white with an inquisitive, astonished look — who could 
she be? 

Come, decide, cousin!” said Norman, pleadingly. 

Yes, decide!” added his grandmother, while a malicious 
smile curled her lip. Easter does not come every day, and 
on work-days the proud horses have no time, because they — 
must pull the rag-cart. ” 

Father’s carriage-horses are no work-horses,” said Lies- 
chen, with quivering lips; they would have no time for 
work, because father meant them exclusively for my mother, 
who, alas! can walk very little.” 

I loill not drive to-day,” declared Bianca, who had been 
made to shudder at the word rag.” Are there many neigh- 
bors here?” asked she. 

^‘ Oh, yes,” replied Norman in friendly tones, although, 
to be sure, we visit nobody — you know without a carriage. ” 

And in our immediate neighborhood there is not a single 
family with whom we could associate on terms of equality,” 
interposed the old baroness. 

‘^That, indeed!” said Bianca, again throwing herself back 
in her chair, drawing forward a mass of her golden shining 
hair and twining a curl of it around her finger. 

Norman had flushed crimson, and darted a quick glance at 
Lieschen, who had suddenly sprung to her feet. Her lovely 
face was pale as death, and in her large eyes glimmered a tear. 

I must take leave without having spoken to Nelly.” 

She will be very sorry, Lieschen,” said the sick lady at her 
side, holding out her hand to her; perhaps you may yet 
meet her in the park. Give my love to your parents at home 
and to Aunt Marian!” 

‘‘ Thank you, my lady,” replied Lieschen, turning to go, 
after simply bowing to the others. The old lady’s black eyes 
followed her slender form with an indescribable expression of 
scorn. 

God be thanked!” cried she, taking a deep breath; I 
do not know how it is, but that girl’s presence always puts me 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLl. 


63 


out of temper, and continually provokes me to a little mis- 
chief. She has such an abominable way of shaking her purse 
in one^s face. What arrogance, to offer her carriage! And 
you, Norman, came within an ace of accepting it! To show 
ourselves in the rag-miller^s carriage, that every child knows 
— incomprehensible of you!^^ 

At this moment Nelly advanced hurriedly from the direction 
of the park, her flaxen curls flying about her heated face. The 
neat but more than simple calico dress displayed her feet, 
which were shod in small but rather coarse leather boots, and 
her black silk apron, although carefully preserved, showed 
manifest signs of having been long in service. What has 
happened to Lieschen?^^ asked she, breathlessly, as she came 
nearer. She was crying.^’ 

In the first place, Nelly, permit me to ask where you have 
been all this time, and to tell you that it is highly unbecoming 
in a young lady to run so. And in those clothes?’^ 

Grandmamma !^^ exclaimed she, laughing merrily, ‘‘how 
comical you are! As if 1 had any better dress to put on than 
this calico! I can not possibly wear my black confirmation 
suit on this lovely day!^^ 

Bianca turned her head and scanned the despised calico with 
one of those cold looks peculiar to herself. Why, her maid 
would have scorned such an outfit. But Norman suddenly 
reddened — he remembered a little note, in which had been 
wrapped a gold piece, his sister'^s birthday gift — wha,t had be- 
come of that note? 

“ Why was Lieschen crying?^^ repeated Nelly, impatiently; 
“ she would not tell me why.^^ 

Nobody answered her. “ Do tell me, Norman,^^ she im- 
plored, and her eyes were brimful of tears. 

“ The little thing seems to be very sensitive, explained 
their grandmother in his stead; “ I said something quite in a 
general way, that she chose to consider highly derogatory to 
her dignity — but it is always so with that sort of persons; they 
are forever trying to put themselves upon an equality with us, 
and take it very ill when the preposterousness of such an at- 
tempt is exposed.-’^ 

Nelly was silent. Prom the tone of voice in which her 
grandmother had pronounced the words “that sort of per- 
sons she had received an explanation of the difficulty that 
was sufficiently plain. 

“For my part, it is too warm here,^^ continued the old bar- 
oness, “ and I prefer to retire to my own cool room — ^visitors 
are welcome at any moment, said she as she arose and smil- 


64 


A TALE OE AK OLD CASTLE. 


ingly cast a kindly glance across at the young lady in the rock - 
ing-chair. Her dark eyes could shine with such deceitful 
amiability. 

1^11 accompany you, mamma/^ said her daughter-in-law. 
Nelly, you will stay here for the present. 

The young girl took her place beside her cousin. She had 
pictured that cousin as something so very different; and fancied 
the pleasant girlish confidences they would exchange, when lo! 
yesterday there had stepped out of the extra post-chaise an 
elegant, regularly fine lady, before whose dark eyes she could 
see that the place and its inhabitants underwent a cold and 
critical examination. They had not spoken one affectionate 
word to each other; Bianca spoke rather with her eyes, and 
those lustrous stars seemed to say, How very dull it is here!^-" 
Upon the instant of her arrival the grandmother and mother 
had noted with joyful antonishment the gracefulness of her 
form and the beauty of her rich auburn hair that floated loosely 
down her back. The former had assured Nelly that she never 
could have believed that the ‘ little red - haired, scrofulous 


lashes had fallen over the cold eyes — the pale oval face with 
high-arched eyebrows, the dark color of which contrasted so 
strangely with her bright hair, formed as it were a golden 
background to an indescribably charming picture. In very 
sooth she might have stood for their ancestress in the hall up- 
stairs; exactly so her slender neck was poised upon the pretty 
shoulders; exactly so was the carriage of the small head; a few 
short curls, in accordance with the fashion, fell on the alabas- 
ter brow, and about the mouth played a thoughtful smile. She 
was playing with her ivory-handled fan and carelessly stroked 
her cheek with its smooth surface. 

Norman stood leaning against the trunk of the great linden- 
tree and looked thoughtfully across at her. Well, here she 
was in the house of his fathers! With what joyful palpitations 
of the heart he had looked forward to her arrival, and now it 
seemed to him as though, like some imprisoned bird, she would 
much rather flee away from this solitude out' into the merry, 
glad life beyond. She was so cool; even her beautifully fur- 
nished apartment, which had cost him so much thought and 
trouble — why, she scarcely vouchsafed it a glance. 

Heavens! What incomprehensible levity! The expenses 
amounted to more than his salary and additional pay for two 


Bianca would have turned out such a piquant beauty. A 
piquant beauty! Nelly did not rightly know what the epithet 
piquant signified, Wt that her cousin was beautiful she felt 
too; felt with peculiar strength at this instant, when the long 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


65 


whole years. But pshaw! if he could only hold that dear lit- 
tle hand firmly within his own^ all this would be accounted as 
a mere trifle! His grandmother had expressed this same senti- 
ment in endeavoring to quiet his mother^s scruples, who had 
watched with looks of anxiety the upholsterers and the new 
liveries of old Henry and the groom who had come with riding 
horses for himself and Bianca, which were now standing at the 
long-deserted marble manger. A professed cook even had 
been hired for the occasion and was now bustling about in the 
great castle kitchen — and all this for yon little fairy who sat 
there opposite, looking so listless! 

Norman sighed and fixed his gaze upon the imposing pile of 
building before him, lying there in the glare of the midday sun, 
which shone down hot upon the pointed slate roof. And there 
in Bianca^s room the pretty maid-servant was just leaning out 
of the window and closing the shutters. How inconsiderate 
the girl is!^^ cried Bianca, starting out of her chair, ‘^she 
knows that I love warmth, and besides, the air in these high- 
pitched old rooms is abominably damp! Nelly, tell her she 
must leave the window open.*^^ 

.The child actually ran to the castle, glad at the minute to 
escape from this oppressive presence. 

Which exactly is my room, Norman? In this medley of 
windows it is not so easy always to find one^s way,^^ asked 
Bianca. 

There, cousin, he explained, coming nearer to her; 
there in the second story; your dressing-room is close up 
against the tower. 

Ah! that then is the door which is so artfully concealed by 
that green stuff — I could not make out whether an old closet 
or door was hidden behind its tightly tacked-down folds. But 
any way,^^ continued she, why did you not give me the tower- 
room? It must be charming with its round windows, and I 
would have had such a fine view of the country. 

“ I am sincerely sorry, Bianca,’^ said he; ‘^I had the same 
idea, but grandmamma seems to have especial reasons — 

Eh! A ghost, may be?^^ interposed she in a quick tone. 
Norman laughed. Alas, no, cousin; at least I know noth- 
ing about such a thing, unless it may be that the ghost of 
young Streitwitz walks abroad, who shot himself for the sake 
of your charming prototype, as the chronicle relates."^ 

She missed his last words. Norman, please get me the 
tower chamber!"^ Her voice had the sweet tones of a plead- 
ing child. 

ITl see grandmamma about it once more, Bianca, 

3 


66 A TALE OF Aiq- OLD CASTLE. ’ 

But soon, Norman, soon!^^ cried she— and she smiled at 

him. 

He looked at her in raptures. Gertainly! Immediately!'^ 
faltered he, for never had she looked so radiantly beautiful be- 
fore, since she had been here. Bianca," added he then, I 
am uneasy lest you be bored to death here." The smile van- 
ished from her face. 

If you please!" exclaimed she, do not say that; rather 
tell me something pleasant, cousin, while I am waiting for the 
time to come when I must dress for lunch! But for whom is 
any one to dress here?" added she, shrugging her pretty 
shoulders. ^^Just tell me, though," she then exclaimed, 
again rocking to and fro in her chair, who is that young 
girl, to whom your grandmamma — excuse me — was so ex- 
tremely impolite?" , 

‘‘Miss Lieschen Irving." 

“ I know that; but who is her father? She spoke of their 
carriage. " 

“Her father is the richest man in all this region round 
about, Bianca, owner of a paper manufactory — hence grand- | 
mamma's mischievous allusion to rags — owner of^xtensive ^ 
forests, in which we shall have the opportunity to walk, since 
they border on our park. " 

“ But what is the reason your grandmother can not bear the 
girl?” i 

“ Do you think, Bianca, that grandmamma stops to ask for f 
a reason? She has always had an inexplicable aversion to thei 
young girl — moreover, it vexes her that Nelly is so intimate I 
with her* She adheres strictly to the notion that one shouldJ 
live in conformity to one's rank, and in this, you know, she isl 
not wrong." \ 

Bianca shook her head. “ Do you know, cousin, if^eems to 
me as though the very air we breathe here were stale and pent 
up, such as is always evaporated in the world outside. Oh! a 
letter!" she exclaimed, interrupting herself, and taking a 
pretty square-shaped envelope from the waiter, that was pre- 
sented to her by Henry, who immediately turned to go with 
the same light step as he had come. “Prom Leonie," said 
she under her breath, as she tore open the letter. For a mo- 
ment a dark red suffused her face, which immediately after- 
ward became as white as the dress she had on. The paper shook 
in her little trembling hand — then she gave a laugh so shrill 
and unnatural that the young officer started back in horror. 

“ This is amusing!" cried she, crumpling up the letter, “ here 
comes another proof of what I was just saying. You see^ Nor- 


^ A TALE OE AK OLD CASTLE. 6? 

man, your grandmamma^ s exclusive ideas no longer prevail in 
the world. Here Leonie von Hammerstein has just written 
to me that Count Seebach is betrothed to a Miss So-and-So, 
the daughter of a head-forester, and as Leonie expresses it, it 
is a case of love, desperate love.^^ She laughed, and her black 
eyes flashed Are, while her little fingers were busily employed 
in tearing the paper into a thousand bits. 

What is that? Count Seebach, with whom you used to 
dance so often last winter,^^ asked Norman, ‘^and who liter- 
ally loaded you with flowers?^ ^ He spoke hurriedly and fixed 
an anxious look of inquiry upon his cousin^s excited counte- 
nance. 

Did he dance with me? I hardly remember, replied she 
lightly, gazing absently upon the luxuriant growth of trees 
and shrubs before her, but her thin nostrils quivered nervous- 
ly. Yes, the world marches onward — to think that a proud 
man like Seebach, who was so lately boasting of his stainless 
genealogy — that he should exalt a girl of no family at all to be 
his wife, just for lovers sake — ha! ha! Norman, it is ridiculous, 
is it not?^^ She shook her head violently, and again pealed 
forth from her lips that unnatural, hysterical laughter. Then 
she suddenly sprung to her feet, and the pretty ivory fan with 
its silver chain was hurled forcibly against the massive table, 
through the violence of her movement. I am very tired, 
j added she, drawing her delicate hand across her eyes, as 
though the glaring sunshine dazzled her. I am not used to 
staying so long in the open air, and shall have to rest, so as to 
be fresh again at luncheon. Addio, cousin."'^ She nodded to 
him, at the same time as she declined his attendance by a wave 
of her hand, and crossed over the grass-plot. It seemed as 
though her light figure must skim along on hidden wings, yes, 
as though at any instant the golden veil which floated down 
oyer her shoulders might part and bear her aloft, so light, so 
airy was the every movement of that radiantly beautiful figure. 
At the tower gate she turned once more, and the sound of a 
sweet musical laugh was wafted across to Norman^s ears. How 
different from that satirical, convulsive laughter of awhile ago! 
She was truly a problematical creature. When would he have 
I the right to solve that problem? 

At the lunch-table Bianca appeared in a charming costume. 
The pale green of her silk skirt shone with softened radiance 
.through the transparent folds of her white overdress. Her 
wondrously beautiful hair was tucked up with an ivory comb, 
and her delicate waist was encircled by a broad band of dead 
gold, on which sparkled a magnificent emerald. Her face no 


68 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE* 


longer showed a trace of that apathetic repose which this 
morning had given her so cold and listless an air. Bianca had 
an amiable smile for all, and the old baroness directed one 
tender glance after another at the young couple who had taken 
their places opposite to her. It had been many a day since 
such a merry tinkling of glasses had been heard in that cool 
dining-hall, and just as long had it been since Henry had had 
occasion to draw the corks of those silver-necked bottles, whose 
contents the old baroness so much relished. To-day he had 
once again to pour the pearling wine into the tall goblets, 
and with his accustomed dignity Henry served up the different 
courses, allowing himself as he did so to take a cautious survey 
of the little company at table, including the fair girl at his 
young masber^s side, of whom the strange maid had reported 
that she certainly and surely would some day be immensely 
rich, and that she had as many suitors as fingers on her hands. 
But old Sanna^s face b'bamed with joy, for the old baroness 
had repeatedly given her to understand the drift of affairs, and 
already she saw happy days in store for her mistress. The 
merry laugh of the young lady with the golden hair echoed 
auspiciously through the lofty apartment, and the heart of the 
young officer at her side beat tumultuously if she did but 
vouchsafe him a glance or address to him the least remark. 

But Helly, dear little Ifelly, what was troubling her? She 
who usually had no will of her own, where her brother was 
concerned, but thought that everything which he said or did 
was right, being quick to read from his eyes his smallest "wish, 
she it was who to-day treated her cousin with such indiffer- 
ence, and seemed to take so little, interest in anything that was 
going on, that it amounted almost to rudeness. Her rosy lips, 
usually so prone to part in heartfelt smiles, to-day were tight- 
ly closed, and only now and then her eyes scanned timidly her 
brother's joyous features, engrossed as he was in attentions to 
his fair neighbor. Again and again there luoiild come up be- 
fore her eyes the pale and tearful countenance of one whom 
she dearly loved — what could they have done to Lieschen, her 
Lieschen? No, she must go to her, and she could tell her 
who had hurt her feelings. 

It had grown perfectly dark, when a few hours afterward 
Nelly came out of Lieschen^s little room, where she had been 
having a long t^k with her friend in the twilight. 

It is nothing, Nelly, repeated Lieschen over and over 
again, with her gentle voice; it was right childish of me to 
take something ill that is not worth talking about; and now 
come, Fll go with you part of the way.^^ 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


69 


And thus they walked together across the bridge over the 
mill stream, and along the old familiar path under the dark 
shadow of the trees — not a breath of air was stirring; on the 
distant horizon a dark storm-cloud was gathering, from time 
to time came a faint flash of lightning, casting a yellowish re- 
flection upon the landscape round about. The nightingales 
were trilling in every thicket, and from afar off rang out the 
song of young peasants, who were enjoying their hour of holi- 
day to the full. 

I do not know how it is,^^ began Lieschen, drawing in a 
deep breath. ‘‘I feel as though I were being stifled! How 
damp and oppressive the air is! I believe Aunt Marian is right 
— a storm is coming. 

Nelly nodded. 

My mother, too, complains of a difflculty in breathing, 
continued Lieschen; do you know, Nelly, that Easter never 
seemed so melancholy to me as it has done to-day, and yet 
everything has gone on quite as usual. 1 hope that no harm 
will come of it, even if we do have a storm !^^ 

They had gone on thus until they had reached the park gate 
and mechanically continued their way along the dark linden 
avenue, while the perfume of lilac and alder met them with 
almost overpowering fragance, and Lieschen pressed her little 
hand against her burning temples. All at once she felt a gen- 
tle pressure upon her arm, and Nelly stood still. 

Pray, Lieschen, whispered she, was not that Bianca^s 
voice 

For a little while all was hushed and still; then steps ap- 
proached; the rustling of a dress accompanied them, and now 
through the stillness sounded a sweet, clear voice : 

Norman, my dear, dear Norman!^^ 

For him what intoxication came with those words. But for 
i the young maiden lurking near it was as though her breast had 
been pierced by a sharp knife — involuntarily she pressed her 
I hand upon her heart. And now a whisper; it was his voice — 

I how well that she did not hear what he said! Would that she 
had not come! 

The rustling of the dress and lingering steps drew nearer; 
Jhe let go her friend^s hand and took refuge behind the trunk 
of a huge linden-tree, and yet she bent forward, and there — 
there a bright flash of 'lightning illuminated the whole sky and 
showed her a tall and manly form, and hanging upon his arm 
was his beautiful, auburn-haired cousin, with her elf -like airi- 
ness and grace. Her head was thrown back, and he stooped 
down and kissed her. It was only a moment, but that sufficed 


70 


A TALE OE AK OLD CASTLE. 


to betray all to those two timid, loving eyes — she leaned her 
head against the trunk of the old tree and closed her eyes in 
anguish, such as she had never known before. But Nelly 
shouted out aloud: Norman! Norman How accusing, how 
full of warning were the tones of her voice. And then he an- 
swered, how cheerfully: “ Little sister, where are you? Come 
and just see what I have found! Come here. You are to run 
forthwith and tell grandmamma that good luck has really 
come back to us, since Bianca now is mine!^^ And now came 
another vivid flash of lightning revealing a slender^'girlish flg- 
ure fleeing down the linden walk toward home. 

Before the betrothed pair stood little Nelly, gazing at her 
brother with looks full of dismay, and when the flash of light 
died away her breast heaved, a sob escaped her, and with 
bowed head she moved toward the castle to tell her mother 
that Bianca was engaged to Norman — her own dear, good Nor- 
man. 

But Aunt Marian sat on the sandstone bench at the front 
door, waiting for her darling; the master of the family was walk- 
ing up and down in the garden, for his wife was accompanied 
by Mr. Selldorf, who was talking to them of his home and his 
kindred. 

The old lady followed the bent of her own thoughts, and 
every time that a lurid gleam of light would flash through the 
sultry atmosphere, she thought to herself: Oh, if Lieschen 
were only at home again! Dear me! dear me! 1 do believe we 
shall have rain to-morrow, and then there will be a chance for 
a picnic with the pastor’s family. Well, there will be nothing 
for it but to let them have their frolic here — even if they do 
turn the old mill upside down. Let’s see! how many shall 1 
have at table? There are eight to come from the parsonage 
alone, and the two chief foresters besides, and — good heavens!” 
she suddenly shrieked, Lieschen, how you have scared me!” 
and she stooped down to the young girl, who had fallen down 
well-nigh lifeless at her feet and buried her head in her lap. 

What is the matter, my child? Lieschen, do speak! What 
is the matter with you?” asked she, stroking her head. My 
God,” she continued,, “ are you sick, my treasure?” But not 
a word did she get in reply. Only the girl’s head was lifted 
up, two arms were flung around her neck, and hot, trembling 
lips were pressed fervently to hers — then the fugitive maiden 
had vanished, and the old woman listened to her light step 
upon the staircase, and soon afterward heard her room door 
close. 

Strange child!” murmured she, and shook her head. She 


A TALE OF AIT OLD CASTLE. 


71 


did i^ot see how restlessly her darling was pacing the floor, and 
how at last her tired head lay upon a tear-stained pillow, and 
how tightly her little hands were clasped in order to utter a 
prayer in behalf of Norman, with whom she used to play as a 
little girl, but who was nothing in fhe world to her now — alas! 
nothing to her for evermore! 


CHAPTEK VIIL 

This was no more a day of rest to any of the denizens of the 
castle. The young girl so recently betrothed had indeed 
speedily retired to her chamber; she was still so confused, she 
said; it had all come about so suddenly, so unexpectedly. She 
submitted patiently to the flatteries administered to her by the 
old baroness with beaming, joyfully surprised countenance, 
listening as well to the agitated words whispered to her by Nor- 
man ^s mother, but then she was tired, and quickly the high 
door to her apartment in the castle flew to behind her. The 
sweet smile worn in public now vanished from her lovely face, 
and Sophy, the maid, had a very ungracious mistress. At last, 
though, she sat in a dressing-gown at her desk and her pen 
fairly flew over the paper, while an expression of deepest 
chagrin contracted her mouth. 

But down in the drawing-room Norman had flung his arms 
about his mother^s neck, and her eyes rested upon his, glow- 
ing now in the radiance of happiness. My good old fellow, 
whispered she, may you indeed be happy! It has come 
about so quickly, Norman, and you are still so young. God 
bestow upon you His blessing !^^ 

The old baroness, who was briskly pacing the apartment to 
and fro, now paused before the group, just as the young man 
had imprinted a kiss upon his mother ^s lips. Norman, she 
began, evidently disgusted at this sentimental scene, you 
know what is the next thing you have to do. You are to set 
out immediately for your aunt Stontheim^s, and ask for 
Bianca in due form, and then I hope that everything else will 
soon be arranged. To Bianca^s father you are to tvrite only; 
I think that we shall come into no further contact with that 
man, at all events. 

Certainly, grandmamma, 1^11 make the trip,^^ interrupted 
he, with softened voice. He had stepped up to Nelly, who, 
crouched in a large arm-chair, had bidden her face in both 
hands. 

Little one,^^ said he, softly^ have you, then, no kind 
■^ord for mef"^ 


72 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


Ah^ Norman/^ she sobbed^ I — I was so terribly shocked| 

when I saw you there with cousin, and I feel so sad because — '''' ' 
But, Nelly! It is such a great happiness for us ail that 
this has come about, and I love Bianca so dearly/^ 

“ Does she love you?^^ asked the young girl, earnestly, seiz-' 
ing hold of his hands. Are you certain of that?^^ 

‘^But, my precious,^^ said he, laughing, “think you that: 
she will marry me in any other case? She, who is so beautiful 
and so much worshiped?^ ^ 

Nelly shook her head and looked across at her brother with . 
streaming eyes. “ I had pictured her so differently,^^ whis-^ 
pered she. - * ^ 

“ Foolish little thing!^^ said he, tenderly stroking her curls. , 
“ But, Nelly, it wi^l be all right if you know that I am truly j 
happy, will it not?^^ " 

She nodded assent through the midst of her tears, and theni 
quickly left the room. Out-of-doors the first thunder of the i 
on-coming storm was rolling through the sultry night. 

“ I do believe that Nelly is sick,^^ said her mother, solicit- 
ously; “ her hands were burning hot.^^ j 

“ What do you say? She is simply rude; she is pouting be-| 
cause, in her opinion, her friend Lieschen was aggrieved to- ? 
day, spitefully asseverated the old lady. “1^11 wager sheJ 
has been down to the mill already, begging that little simple- : 
ton^s pardon; really, such proceedings are unheard of.-^^ | 

“To be sure she was down there. She seemed to come 
from there when she unexpectedly met us in the lindens 
avenue. And as for the rest, grandmamma, I must acknowl- : 
edge — and Bianca agrees with me — that you were too severe; 
upon the little thing. 

At this moment came a vivid flash of lightning, followed by : 
a terrific thunder-clap. , 

“ what a tempest cried the old baroness,! 

trembling, and in her fright forgetting the sharp answer she 
had ready upon her tongue. “ What if Bianca should be fright- 
ened?^^ i 

Already the door was thrown open, and that young lady her- s 
self stood suddenly in the middle of the room, clad in a long 
white cashmere grown. She held her hands over her ears,; 
and looked around with terror-stricken mien. “ I amafraid,^^- 
said she, shaking from head to foot, and taking refuge in the 
same chair which Nelly had just left. 1 

Norman hurried up to her, looked into her pale face and 
clasped her cold little hand in his. J 


A TALE OE AK OLD CASTLE. 73 

1 would not live here always — no, not for the world she 
continued, planting her pretty foot defiantly on the floor. 

Where will you live then, my child asked the old baron- 
ess, listening to her in surprise. 

Live then?^^ repeated the young lady in astonishment, and 
for the moment seeming to have completely forgotten her ter- 
ror. Yes, dear grandmamma, you fancy perhaps that Nor- 
i man and I are going to bury ourselves here. No, Heaven for- 
jbid! You say so, too, do you not, Norman? First of all, we 
[are to travel and see something of the world; as yet I know 
j nothing of the great watering-places, Ems, Baden-Baden, then 
[Switzerland and Italy — just think, Italy, about-which you told 
! me so much only yesterday, and then when we have seen all 
[this we shall look out for a place that we like."^^ Suddenly she 
I was silent, for just then came another clap of thunder fol- 
Jowed by lightning, and it seemed as though the old castle 
(were being shaken to its very foundations. Norman held the 
jhand of his betrothed; he stood erect at her side, and listened 
[to the reverberating thunder; but the old baroness eyed the 
pair with evident amazement, while the younger one had 
straightened herself in her chair and listened with almost pain- 
ful anxiety to words so portentous, issuing as such a matter of 
course, from those fresh and rosy lips. 

We shall have to live wherever Aunt Stontheim chooses,^^ 
now said the young man with composure. 

No, never,^^ returned she, positively. I could not sub- 
mit to being buried alive in this old castle; I am still young; I 
can not be chained up here, but want to enjoy life. Norman, 
you will give up to me in this. Live here? Never in the 
world! Aunt is too reasonable; she will not ask it either — ^no, 
assuredly not,^^ added she, confidently. 

Certainly, Bianca, we shall take a trip,^^ he assured her; 
but Aunt Stontheim has to select our permanent home. 

And if she should select Derenberg — then 1^11 not come. 
No, I'’ 11 not come with you; it is too doleful here; I should die 
in this solitude 

And could you then leave me here aU alone?^^ asked Nor- 
man, softly stooping down so as to look into her eyes. He 
spoke playfully, but withal there was a ring of anguish in his 
voice. “ And yet you declared to me out there under the 
trees, that you could only be happy where — his voice here 
sunk into a whisper. 

A vehement shaking of her golden locks was the answer she 
gave. ‘^No, no!^^ she then cried, “I did not mean that, 
Norman. I must have a little freedom left me; it would be 


74 


A TALE OF AK OLJ3 CASTLIi. 

the death of me to have to go day by day through these cold, 
lofty corridors, and look out upon that dreary park/^ 

But if your future husband desires you to stay here?^^ 
asked the old lady almost breathlessly, her long slender fingers 
catching convulsively at the folds of her dress. 

^^He will desire no such thing, cried she, passionately, 
springing to her feet as she spoke. Her lovely little face had 
assumed an almost threatening expression, and energetically 
her tiny foot stamped upon the solid old fioor. There was no 
longer in her deportment a single trace of that sweet devotion 
with which she had clung to his arm this same evening under 
the shadow of the trees — selfishness in its most hideous shape 
had suddenly been revealed, and her voice rang out in sharp, 
rough tones. “It is ridiculous, simply ridiculous, con- 
tinued she, “ to regard a wife as a slave who must be forced 
to accommodate herself to her husband^ s wishes, and if she 
does not, it is at her peril; let her be prepared! iforman can 
not and will not occupy such a position toward me — I gave 
him my word to be his, but it is for him to see that I am happy 
with him, and here I can not and shall not be content. 

“ Bianca cried he, and his large eyes rested in horror 
almost upon the young creature who had so lately engaged her- 
self to him with a thousand sweet assurances of love, “ Bianca! 
I implore you, cease! You are under excitement to-night. 
You have been frightened. He had rung the bell and led 
her back to her seat. “A glass of water !^^ he ordered of 
Henry, who came immediately. 

But his grandmother gazed at her grandson ^s betrothed, as 
though half stupefied. What? That childish being — was she 
to overturn all her carefully contrived plans with a breath? 
Was she herself to live on in this solitude afterward as before? 
The promised wealth then was not to accrue to her advantage? 
She was not to sun herself in the rays which a fresh, glad life 
might spread abroad here? Almost fainting she dropped into 
a chair and gloomily watched the tall form of the young offi- 
cer, who was just in the act of taking a glass of water from 
the servant's hand, in order to offer it to his betrothed. Out- 
of-doors the rain was now coming down in torrents — every now 
and then pale flashes of lightning were still to be seen, but 
already the rolling of the thui]der sounded as from a distance. 

Suddenly a low cry was heard to issue from the adjoining 
chamber. “ Nelly exclaimed the younger baroness in dis- 
may, and vanished through a door leading into the room where 
she was, “ my child, what can be the matter ?^^ cried she in 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 75 

! sympathetic distress, as she stooped over Nelly, who was lying 
on the sofa, and laid her hand upon her hot brow. 

Ah, but she is dreadful, mamma, she is dreadful, sobbed 
the young girl. ‘‘ My brother, my dear, good Norman! She 
does not love him, mamma — you may believe me. 

Do not distress yourself, my darling, whispered her 
mother, trying to comfort her, she is only a little capricious 
I — all will yet be well. 

No, no, mamma! Alas! the first time I laid eyes upon 
her, the old legend and that verse about the red hair came 
back to me, and I can not get them out of my mind. Oh! if 
she would only go away this very night, and never come back 
any more!^^ 

j With a thousand coaxing words the mother sought to soothe 
I the excited girl. Oh! how anxiously her own heart beat! 

I The delicate woman bent her head and a few large tears forced 
' their way to her eyes. 

Nelly fell asleep under her mother caresses. It was a rest- 
less, feverish sleep, but nevertheless the pale, care-worn woman 
after awhile left her little daughter alone; she had one more 
child, her Norman. Cautiously she opened the door and 
peeped in — the old lady and^ young beauty had left the room, 
but there in the deep recess to one of the windows her darling 
was standing. There he stood gazing out into the darkness. 
She stepped up to him and laid her hand upon his shoulder. 

Norman, said she softly — he turned and looked at her 
questioningly. She spoke not a word more, but her eyes rest- 
ed in anxious inquiry upon his proud, handsome face as he 
drew her hand to his lips. 

Be easy, mamma,'''' said he, hastily, and his voice did not 
sound so firm as usual. “ She is a spoiled child, a very spoiled 
child, but she loves me — certainly she does. I know it, and 
she will alter; look — she was already sorry that she had been 
so violent. 

His mother suppressed her rising tears and gently stroked 
his brow. “ Good-night, Norman,^" she whispered, and then 
turned quickly away. 

Good-night, mamma,^^ he responded, kissing her tenderly; 
“ have no uneasiness on my account.-'^ 

Full fourteen days had elapsed since that Easter night 
when the storm and rain had beaten all the blossoms from the 
trees and shrubs, and they had strewn the earth like a fall of 
fresh snow. But in their place the miller^ s garden was now 
full of the most splendid roses at their best estate, and the lin- 
^eu-trees, lining the old avenue in the castle park, were in the 


.. 76 


A TALE OE AK OLD CASTLE. 


height of their bloom. Right often had Leischen gone this 
way lately, a way that she had thought never to tread again. 
But Nelly had fallen seriously sick, and at her desire old Henry 
had been sent to fetch her friend to the patient^s bedside. 
Then for hours Leischen had sat there in that lofty, darkened 
apartment, holding the feverish little hand in her own. 

The message which summoned her to the castle had reached 
-the mill in the midst of that upturning which Aunt Marian 
had predicted. The pastor and wife, with their children, and 
the chief foresters with their families, had duly appeared, and 
Lieschen had been obliged to collect her faculties to the 
utmost, that she might conduct the sports of the children as 
usual, and was really glad for once to find a coadjutor in 
young Mr. Selldorf. Then Henry had come in with his dis- 
turbing message, and Lieschen had delayed only a moment to 
ask to be excused, a request which was immediately granted 
her, although it was hard indeed to spare her from their merry 
circle. “ Aunt Lieschen, come again soon — good-bye. Aunt 
Lieschen, the fresh young voices of the little urchins had 
called after her, while they pressed their little noses flat upon 
the glass of the window-panes. But behind the curtains had 
stood a young man with light hair and a pair of honest blue 
eyes, who gazed after the slender figure that, under shelter of 
an umbrella was just now vanishing into the forest path, and 
there was a look of dissatisfaction upon his features. What 
had come of this ardently longed-for second holiday? Instead 
of a picnic, rainy weather, instead of longing looks into blue 
eyes, the teasing of those wild boys, by whom Selldorf had 
already been dubbed with the title of Uncle. 

In the castle, too, many a thing had happened in those four- 
teen days. Norman had returned from a flying visit to Aunt 
Stontheim, bringing with him her consent, and besides that a 
charming little carriage for his betrothed. A kind note from 
Bianca^s father had further sanctioned their engagement. The 
young lady was again amiability itself; she had voluntarily 
confessed her sorrow at having exhibited so much passion on 
h er en gagement-dav — but a storm always upset her nerves ter- 
ribl^ And Norman — well, he was the happiest lover iu the 
world — at least so Lieschen thought. Many a time he would 
step into the darkened sick-room to see'^ after his sister, and 
how happy and proud he looked when he stooped down to kiss 
her and give her some message from his beloved Bianca. The 
latter, however, had only appeared once at her cousin ^s bed- 
side, but the bright apparition with her long rustling train and 
shining hair had mightily excited the patient. When she had. 


77 


A TALE OF A-N- OLD CASTLE. 

asked how she did — if she would not soon be out again, and 
so on, talking in such a lively strain about rides that she was 
taking and plans for their marriage, the young girl burst into 
tears, whereupon Bianca had again rustled out of the room. 

“ If she will only come no more,'’^ had been Nellyas wail; 

I feel so oppressed when she is near, and the perfume she 
uses makes my head ache. 

Bianca had taken no notice whatever of Lieschen, although 
she saw her slender figure standing erect at the bedside. The 
old baroness, as a general ^thing, never entered the sick-room 
so long as she knew that Lieschen was there, and Sanna would 
mutter something about hard-headedness, and that she could 
nurse just as well as that silly thing froni the mill — it was all 
of the young baroness''s contrivance. 

Finally the sickness was surmounted, the dark curtains in 
; the sick-room drawn back, the windows opened, and the young 
convalescent lay upon the sofa, inhaling with delight the pure 
country air, which penetrated so caressingly into the chamber, 
and fastened her eyes gratefully upon Lieschen, who sat beside 
her talking. No one else was with them, for a visitor had 
arrived — Bianca^s father, who (as Nelly informed her in a whis- 
per) had come commissioned by Aunt Stontheim to speak with 
grandma and Norman. I am really glad, Lieschen, added 
she, “that I need not be present, for ever since the letter 
came that announced uncle^s coming, grandma has worn such 
a dark, dark face. But tell me, Lieschen, how is it that you 
look so pale?^"" she then asked. “ You have certainly exerted 
yourself too much nursing me. 

The young girl turned her head away blushing. Below, 
from out-of-doors, now came the sound of voices and the 
trampling of horses'' ‘hoof s. “ Ah, they have come back from 
their ride,^^ said Nelly. “ Come, Lieschen, we must see them.*^^ 
She got up somewhat feebly and stepped to the window. Down 
there on the lawn it seemed as though the whole family were 
assembled. Bianca still sat upon her horse, in a black riding- 
habit and jaunty little hat with a long black plume, that fell 
over the mass of rich hair, which to-day was done up in huge 
puffs on the back of her head, instead of falling down her back 
as usual. The horse was restive, but she sat perfectly secure 
upon the saddle, and with her little gloved hand patted caress- 
ingly the neck of the beautiful creature. Norman had already 
leaped off his horse, and stood before his betrothed, to lend 
her aid in dismounting, and looked across at his future father- 
in-law, who was slowly advancing between the two baronesses. 
He was a corpulent little man, as Lieschen could perceive, and 


78 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


# 

seemed very eager in urging some opinion^ for he gesticulated 
violently as he spoke. 

A look from Nellyas mother happened to take in the win- 
dow, where stood the two young girls; she gave them a pleas- 
ant nod, and the eyes of the two walking with her took the 
same direction. The elder lady looked away again with 
thorough indifference, while the colonel stood still, took off his 
hat and smiled up at them. Then they heard him ask after 
Lieschen, but the answer was no longer audible. 

Meanwhile Bianca had dismounted, and Lieschen again con- 
ducted her friend to the sofa. Soon n.fterward loud talking in 
the next room proclaimed the entrance of the company. Lies- 
chen picked up her book, and was about to resume the read- 
ing that had been interrupted, when the chairs in the next 
room were moved back, and suddenly the voice of the old gen- 
tleman penetrated to them distinctly through the tall folding- 
doors. 

I am sorry, my lady, that the affair seems to be so little 
to your taste, meanwhile — 

It seems to be so much the more to yours, colonel,^^ inter- 
rupted^ the baronesses sharp voice. 

‘‘Pardon me. I come only as the envoy of the Countess 
Stontheim, and have already stated emphatically that I shall 
in no way meddle with the arrangement of affairs. I will not 
deny, however, that it appears to me most reasonable. His 
voice betrayed a sense of provocation. 

“ Opinions differ, dearest 'Derenberg!^^ 

“ Of course, but you must admit yourself that Norman is 
too young, too inexperienced, to disentangle himself from the 
confusion — pardon me, baroness! — in which the whole Deren- 
berg property is involved. It would require a very, very skill- 
ful agriculturist to restore this ruined estate to its former con- 
dition, provided that all of it is redeemable in any case; the 
wood land for example. Countess Stontheim has talked with 
Counselor Hellwig with reference to these concerns — the wood 
land is as good as lost; the present owner — what is his name? 
you must know it, a manufacturer in the neighborhood here — 
will not resign it on any condition whatever; the forest, then, 
is lost forever, and what is such an estate without a forest?^’ 

“ What, Irving not sell the forest again?^'’ cried the old 
lady. “Ha! ha! you little know him; with such people the 
amount of the bribe is the only thing to be considered — people 
of the shop-keeping sort do not sell their bliss for a small 
profit, No; no; my good colonel^ that is an absurd idea^ with 


A I’ALE OF AK OLD CASTLF. 


which I would not have credited you. 1^11 lay you any wager, 
that if you increase your offer sufficiently, the forest is yours — " 

You would lose your wager, my lady, for, by the Countess 
von Stontheim’s orders, Hellwig made a secret application and 
obtained a decided refusal; as for the rest — Here a loud 
laugh from the old lady interrupted him. 

It is possible that you may be right, Derenberg,^^said she, 
for i\m parvenu y like all his fellows, hates the nobility, and 
us especially. Plelaglio added she, contemptuously, in her 
native tongue. 

‘‘ As for that,^^ repeated the colonel with voice perceptibly 
elevated, ‘Vbegging your pardon, baroness, continued he, 
politely, when she held silence, “ it is none of my affair how 
you stand affected toward this man. It does not alter the 
thing an iota. I would only add that in reference to the whole 
estate a veritable chaos exists. It is perfectly bewildering, 
madame — Jews, brokers, rights of pre-emption, first, second, 
and third mortgages, and Heaven knows what else. But the 
long and short of the matter is, that the Countess Stontheim 
prefers not to put her fingers in the pie, since a settlement can 
be effected only by immense sacrifices. Her wish is (as I had 
the honor of telling you this morning) that Norman shall re- 
main in the service after his marriage, which is fixed for the 
fall. She promises to * supply the young couple with ample 
means for current expenses, and afterward, if Norman should 
feel inclined to country life, she will purchase for them some 
unencumbered estate. Castle Derenberg will always remain a 
pleasant summer retreat for the young people, and Norman is 
to retain the house of his fathers at any cost. You will not 
object to wearing your uniform a little longer, will you, Nor- 
man 

Assuredly I must submit, uncle, were the words spoken 
•in the young many's voice, but I do not deny that it is hard 
for me to give up the thought of occupying Castle Derenberg 
again — it has always been my pet idea.'^^ 

^^But not mine!^^ warmly interrupted Bianca. per- 
fectly agree with Aunt Stontheim — but I have expressed my 
opinion on this subject before. 

You do not know, Bianca, and his deep voice seemed to 
quiver, you do not know what a fascination such an old an- 
cestral home exercises over one! You can not know, for you 
never had the proud satisfaction of crossing your own thresh- 
old. To you no old walls, no deserted chambers, no aged trees 
have spoken of days long gone by, when here our forefathers 
lived and fiourished. It has been my fairest dream to restore 


80 


A TALE OE AK OLD CASTLE. 


the old place to its pristine splendor, and the non-fulfillment 
of this dream would be very painful to me, you may well be- 
lieve/'' 

Good heavens exclaimed the young lady, ‘^how senti- 
mental he is! For my part^ the smallest villa on the fashion- 
able promenade in our city seems a thousand times more at- 
tractive than this tiresome, deserted — 

‘‘Hist, children said the colonel, endeavoring to quiet 
them, let each of you keep your own opinion to yourself! 
You, Bianca, must needs acquiesce in Aunt Stontheim^s wishes 
as entirely as Norman. What she says must be done; there is 
no help for it, and so I should think we had better let the 
matter drop and contend no further. 

Very wisely observed, colonel, remarked the old lady, 
now joining in the conversation, ‘‘ but how hard it is to bear 
such dependence he alone can appreciate who has once been 
free to command. You can not feel this; you have never 
stood upon your own ground; so to speak, you have grown up 
in dependence, and so it is easy for you to preach to other peo- 
ple. I think it very strange of Stontheini; she has the means 
afid will not help; Norman is to be kept in the army for the 
absurd reason reaped up, that he is too young, forsooth, as if 
he had no older friends and counselors at hand to give ad- 
vice. 

‘^Yourself, for instance, madame?^^ mockingly suggested 
the colonel. Certainly not ill thought of! Financial talent 
can hardly be denied you — that you were unfortunate in your 
speculations, who is to blame?^^ 

You are just as incorrigibly malicious, 1 perceive, colonel, 
as of old when I had the good fortune of meeting you here 
sometimes, but in this case your insinuations are pointless, for 
it was regular ill-luck that pursued us."^ 

“ Unmerited ill-luck?^^ said the colonel, with ironical in- 
tonation. 

Pray, uncle, let us drop this subject! It excites mam- 
ma, implored Norman. 

“ And, young man, it is with the express purpose of guard- 
ing against a repetition of this unmerited ill-luck that the 
Countess Stontheim positively objects to your passing the first 
years of your married life here — understand me well — I mean 
here, this very place. Pardon me for speaking so plainly! I 
would gladly avoid — 

understand, said the old lady, coldly. ‘^Countess 
Stontheim. has always held the erroneous impression that 1 was 
to blame for the ruin of the whole family. She did not scruple 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


81 


to tax me with it to my face when trouble and poverty first 
befell us — and as the family had treated me as an interloper 
from the beginning, hating me for being a foreigner and an 
Italian, it was easy for her to affix this stigma to my name — 
Va hene ! You tell me nothing new, colonel, I only regret 
that any one so — so — she broke off abruptly, evidently hav- 
ing had a very sharp epithet at her tongue^s end. The colonel 
made no answer whatever. 

XJncle,^^ asked Norman, what does this mean? Aunt 
can not possibly maintain that grandmamma — 

‘‘ Silence!^^ cried the old lady, and forthwith the rollers of 
a chair were heard moving over the floor. 

But Lieschen and Nelly sat breathlessly side by side, hold- 
ing hands. When the former had heard the name of her fa- 
ther pronounced, she had jumped up and looked around the 
room helplessly, for there was no other way of exit than 
through the very room where she had just heard her good 
name so hatefully called in question. The young girFs slender 
form was pressed, as though from an impulse of agony, 
against a locked folding-door, behind which was a suite of 
empty apartments. 

How am I to get away?^^ whispered she to her friend, in 
great distress. 

“ Stay here, Lieschen implored Nelly, drawing her close 
to her side, they can not know that we hear all so plainly; 
ah, do not cry!^^ besought she. Oh! if I were only well and 
strong, like Norman, I would give it to them if they said aught 
to hurt your feelings!^^ And fiercely she clinched her little 
fists. 

Inside the old lady^s steps were heard, as she moved to and 
fro. But every time that she drew near the door, Lieschen 
started and looked around the room with anxious eyes, as 
though she sought a corner wherein to hide herself. 

All at once Bianca^s voice was heard, and the tones now 
were sweet as music and fondly persuasive. ‘‘Grandma 
dear,^^ she began, “ I have a request to make of you; I had 
commissioned Norman with it, but he seems to have forgotten 
it, the bad fellow! Yes, indeed !^^ continued she, playfully, 
“ only do not put on such a face of astonishment, for you 
know very well, grandma, that when you were engaged your 
lover was but too glad to interpret every wish of your beautiful 
eyes. ^ ^ 

The last words sounded more distinctly in their ears than 
the beginning of her petition, for evidently the fair supplicant 
now stood close beside the old lady at the door. 


82 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


Now she is flinging her arms aroung grandma^s neck, the 
deceitful thing whispered Nelly. Oh, Lieschen, you 
would not believe how she can fawn and flatter.''^ 

“ Well?^^ came now in the old lady^s voice. 

‘‘ I had commissioned Norman to ask you, grandmamma, 
to let me stay in the little tower-room next my chamber. Oh! 
please, please, grandmamma, amatissirna mia!^^ 

‘‘ It was very considerate of Norman not to beg me, since I 
had once refused it to him, and am obliged to repeat that re- 
fusal to you, although I am sorry to thwart your wishes. 

Why must you?^^ asked Bianca, in altered tones. 

“ You will allow me to keep my reasons, said the old lady, 
imperiously. 

Kanca flushed and was silent, and, moving toward the fold- 
ing-doors, opened them, and leaving them wide apart, passed 
int^o the room wherein sat Lieschen and Nelly. The colonel, 
looking up, stared curiously at the startled Lieschen, and 
Nelly presented him to her friend. The young girl bowed 
slightly. 

Irving repeated the old gentleman, in questioning tones. 

“ The d^aughter of the present proprietor of the Derenberg 
forests, uncle, affirmed Nelly, fixing her eyes full upon his 
somewhat flushed countenance. 

“ Ah, that indeed replied he. “ That is the reason why 
the name struck me as so familiar. Your father is evidently 
an admirer of the noble in nature?^^ 

“ Yes, colonel, and especially he needs a great deal of wood 
in his paper factory. 

“ Ah, does your father own a paper factory? But wood — I 
should suppose that the better sort of paper is for the most 
part made out of rags. 

A roguish smile crossed Lieschen^s face. “Certainly, 
colonel. Therefore, through all this country our factory is 
known as the rag-mill, my father as the rag-miller, and I as 
the rag-miller^s Lieschen. Now she actually laughed heartily. 

“ Kag-miller’s Lieschen?^^ repeated the colonel, participat- 
ing in her merriment. “ Assuredly Tis a name that ill befits 
you. 

“ I bear it cheerfully,^^ said she, “ every child calls me so — 
indeed the daughters of our house have always been nicknamed 
either the rag-miller^s Maggie, or Minnie, or Lisette — She 
started after she had thus undesignedly pronounced this name, 
and timidly glanced across at the old lady, who was still 
standing at the window, but now turned sharply around, as 
though she had been stung by an adder. 


A tA^le of an old castle. 


83 


Lisette?^^ repeated she, You have just called a name 
of which you have no great reason to be proud; that Lisette 
was a frivolous girl, who caused her parents a great deal of 
trouble — 

Aunt Lisette^s memory is sacred to me/^ replied the young 
girl with apparent composure, she was not frivolous; she was 
only unhappy, and that I have been assured, baroness, not by 
any fault of her own.^^ Her lips quivered through excitement 
as she uttered these last words, and her voice betrayed the tem- 
pestuous throbbing of her heart. 

What Lisette are you talking about? Who was she?^^ in- 
quired Bianca, who just now made her appearance. Who 
accuses her, and ‘for what was she to blame She stood be- 
! tween Lieschen and her greataunt, her head turning rapidly 
from one t^ the other, 

^^Do not be so inconveniently curious, my child chided 
the colonel. I told you once before that old castles had 
‘ their secrets, and — 

Who says, colonel, that the castle has anything to do with 
that affair?’^ The old lady had turned as pale as a ghost. 

Why, you see,^^ answered he, deliberately, sharply eying 
her, I can put two and two together. 

A great pity, colonel, that you did not turn your atten- 
tion to novel- writing! You have missed your calling obvi- 
ously.^^ 

Good-bye, Nelly, whispered Lieschen, bending over and 
' imprinting a kiss upon her friend^s cheek; and then, with a 
light bow to the rest of the company, she took her leave. 
Once outside she fairly flew along the corridor and across the 
! lawn in front of the castle. In the linden avenue she sud- 
I denly confronted — Norman. 

I “ Miss Irving — ” She looked up at him; his features were 
I grave. Miss Irving, he repeated, did you hear what was 
spoken there in our drawing-room?^^ 

“ Yes,"^^ was her firm reply. 

It is not exactly very — what shall I call it? — very discreet 
to listen when family matters are discussed. 

‘^I did not listen voluntarily, baron cried she, proudly; 
had there been any other way out of the room, I would have 
availed myself of it only too gladly, for — 

‘VYou might have gone through the drawing-room. 

; ^ ^ ^ No I Y our mother herself bade me never cross your grand- 

mother's path, for she can not bear me; I am a daughter of 
that house with whom pleasant intercourse can not be held, 
lieutenant, You know it; I was forced to stay— much rather 


84 


A TALE OF AK OLD CATTLE. 


would I have sprung out of the window/^ An expression of 
bitterness encircled the small mouth as she spoke these words. 

Well, in any case, permit me to beg of you not to repeat 
what you heard. When I ask that these interesting details be 
carried no further, I am aware of the greatness of the sacrifice 
involved — our family have always supplied the neighborhood 
with ample food for gossip — but I think you will make this 
sacrifice when I remind you of what trusty friends we used to 
be — is not this so, Lieschen?^^ He held out his hand, but the 
maiden drew back and folded her arms across her breast. 

A promise were hardly needful,^’ replied' she, in spiritless 
tones; for that matter I should have held my tongue in any 
case, especially as my father^s name was introduced injuriously 
— my father^s, at whose house you used to stay so gladly in 
those days when we were ^ trusty friends,^ as you remar l^ed.^^ 

He stepped back, shocked. What? I did not say a word 
about your father.-'^ 

But listened when they called him a parvenu — when they 
accused him of hating the nobility and the Derenberg family 
especially, and of meditating vengeance. And the listening 
quietly to a slander, while entertaining a conviction of its 
falsity, is, in my opinion, to second it. Your tender feeling 
seems to change with circumstances, lieutenant. 

A feeling of bitter resentment mingled with the pangs of 
hopeless love swelled within her soul. But not until she had 
turned her back coolly upon him, and rapidly traversing quite 
a long stretch of the avenue, did the tears come and slowly 
fall. She did not see what a long glance he sent after her, 
and that he did not move toward the castle with lingering step 
and knitted brows until her slender form had wholly disap- 
peared from view. 

When Norman rejoined his family in the great drawing- 
room, it seemed as though a calm had returned after the storm; 
at least every one was silent. The colonel had lighted his 
(3igar, and was leaning back in one of the old-fashioned chairs 
apparently enjoying his loll immensely, while the old baroness 
sat bolt upright on the sofa, nervously toying wdth her long, 
tapering fingers; but Bianca stood in the bay-window gazing 
out upon the park; the. long train to her dark-blue riding-habit 
lay motionless on the floor, nor did she stir even at her lover ^s 
approach. He failed to hear the old lady^'s fretful query as to 
where his mother could be, and if she would not come soon. 
He only saw the charming creature at his side, who appeared 
more graceful, more sylph-like than ever in her close-fitting 
riding-habit, and gently he took hold of one of the heavy 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


85 


golden ringlets that fell loosely over the blue velvet and pressed 
it to his lips. The young lady shook her head impatiently, 
without looking around, and with her little hands seized her 
hair and drew it over her shoulder. 

‘‘ Bianca!^^ said Norman, reproachfully, stooping over so 
as to look into' her face. She turned her head away, and with 
apparent interest still looked out upon the quiet green garden. 

“Have I offended you, Bianca?^'’ asked he, softly. Are 
you angry with me?^^ With a quick movement she clapped 
both hands to her ears. No, no, for Heaven^s sake, no!^^ 
cried she, passionately, turning around with a jerk. I im- 
plore you, Norman, not to ask such absurd questions — you 
should have seen instantly that I took no pleasure in all your 
foolish love-making. Anybody else would have perceived this 
directly, and you are forever asking if I am angry or some 
such nonsense She stamped her foot imperiously. 

Norman ^s face flushed crimson. I beg pardon,^^ said he, 
stepping up to the piano and lifting up the lid he struck a few 
chords. 

Please do not play!^^ cried Bianca, again putting her 
hands to her ears. 

He stood up. Then, please, you play,^^ he begged. “ 1 
; would like s,o much to hear a little music; it always has such 
a quieting, soothing influence upon me. 

Yes, please play, my darling called out the colonel, as 
well, who of all this little scene had heard only the last words, 
and to whom it doubtless occurred as a good expedient for 
concealing the disagreeable relations subsisting between the old 
lady and himself. 

j “ On that instrument over there?^^ asked she. ‘‘ No, I can 
I not play upon such a piano, nor even endure the sound of its 
I jingling tones. Besides, I am too much fatigued any way by 
I that long ride,""^ added she. 

I ^ Norman^s eyes flashed with momentary anger; then he 
turned to the despised old instrument, shut down the lid, and 
again approached his betrothed; she had taken a little riding- 
whip in her hand and played with its silver handle, while the 
old lady arose and left the room. 

I give it up— you are: really sick, else it would have been 
more than ill-humor if you had refused to play at my request,^ ^ 
remarked he Avith forced composure. 

, Give it up, dear fellow, give it up!^^ said the old gentle- 

man, laughing and slapping him on the shoulder, that is the 
best way to get along; I see; you are going to manage her 
splendidly. 


86 


A TALE OF AFT OLD CASTLE. 


Norman bit his lips. May I see you to your room?’^ he 
then asked, turning to his betrothed; let me advise you to 
lie down awhile and rest. Perhaps at dinner I may have the 
pleasure .of hearing a little more from you, may 1 not?^^ 

“ I believe not,'’^ replied she, for 1 have a headache, and 
shall stay in my own room to-day. 

The colonel laughed. Good-night to you, then, and bet- 
ter health, and so saying he went out, still smiling and nod- 
ding at his nephew. Bianca caught up the train of her riding- 
habit, threw it across her arm, and followed him; passing her 
lover as she did so without a word. 

Bianca, asked he, softly, planting himself in her way, 
will you not bid me good-night 

You treat me like a spoiled child,^^ cried she, passionate- 
ly, and moving one step back; I am surprised that you do 
not ask me to make an apology; it would be just like you, 
whether I have a headache or not.-^^ 

“ Neither the one nor the other. I neither demand an 
apology nor refuse you my sympathy on account of the head- 
ache, but it is impossible for me to leave you thus, without 
even a good-night. Surely you do not really object to this, 
Bianca. When two people love each other as we do, it is so 
natural to desire perfect agreement and gopd understanding.^^ 
At these words he had come nearer to her, and would have 
drawn her to his side, but she avoided him with an impatient 
movement, and there was a look about her mouth of utter con- 
tempt. 

If you really loved me,^^ returned she, rudely, you 
would not give me such silly moral lectures; especially when 
you know; that I am sick. It is horrible,^^ added she, the 
idea you seem to have of our mutual relations; this perpetual 
spying, this leaning one on the other, without daring to express 
an opinion of one^s own, this giving up to one another — it is 
an oppressive, galling chain, but no happiness. I want to be 
free — do you hear? be free!^"" repeated she once more, and im- 
mediately afterward the heavy leaf to the folding-door fell to 
threateningly behind her graceful figure. 

He stood there stunned and stupefied, gazing at the door 
which had shut her from his view. A hush had fallen upon 
the great apartment; through the window were still pouring 
the sun^s last rays, filling the room with empurpled radiance; 
gradually, however, the crimson hues faded, to be succeeded 
by the dull gray light of evening. The young man stepped up 
to the window and gazed fixedly out upon the darkened land- 
scape; his lips were tightly compressed as though from pain, 


A fALE OE AK OLD CASTLE. 


Bit 


but suddenly he started — from above-stairs sounds reached his 
ears. Hurriedly he opened the window, and still more clearly 
now they floated down to him — some one was playing the 
waltzes from Faust up there — rhythmically and brilliantly 
as she alone could perform them — the running passages rolled 
along smoothly as strings of pearls, and yet the melody stood 
forth clear and distinct from the accompaniment, in a manner 
unapproachable save by a performer of masterly skill. ^ 

‘‘ She is playing he murmured, and angrily his clinched 
fist struck against the window-sill. 

With a bitter laugh he left the room. • 

Outside he was greeted by a sweet, gentle breeze. Involun- 
tarily his steps turned in the direction of the moat, out of 
which the elder stretched forth its branches whence every 
blossom now had dropped, and then he paused beneath her 
window. Close beside him rose up the massive old tower, and 
the white rose clambering up its sides shone brightly out of 
the darkness. The music up there had ceased. But no, there 
it began again — a sad, plaintive melody; he knew its theme: 

“ There stands a man with upturned eyes, 

And wrings his hands in agony.’’ 

How exactly it described himself! Then suddenly the music 
ceased with a sharp discord. 

Norman breathed a sigh of relief. Loving truly and pas- 
sionately as he did, yet strove he in vain to unriddle his Bianca^s 
nature. This evening the anxious question had rushed in upon 
him with full force: What if she did not love him? ‘‘ Bather 
die than live without her!^^ he murmured, walking on and 
thinking in spite of himself of Agnes Matilda and young 
Streitwitz, who lay buried somewhere here in the garden. 
Sadly he turned into the shaded walk that lay next him. The 
oinpleasant occurrences of the afternoon again came up before 
him; contending emotions took possession of him; the recol- 
lection of the conversation between his uncle and grandmam- 
ma with its manifold insinuations, which cast, as it were, un- 
pleasant lights upon the past; the remembrance of Bianca^s 
pettish declaration that she would -not live here, and then the 
reproof administered to him by Lieschen when he had met her 
there in the avenue and asked her to betray nothing of what 
she had heard! They had mortified him, those simple words 
and that reproachful glance; he had allowed that excellent 
man down there at the mill to be slandered, without saying a 
word in his defense — out of thoughtlessness, for in truth his 
attention had been strained, following the conversation that so 


88 


A TALE OE AK OLD CASTLE, 


rudely crushed his cherished desire, viz., to have Bianca live 
here with him in the castle of his fathers. But Lieschen must 
suppose that he thinks just like — Oh, no, no, certainly not; 
her father is an excellent, honorable man.^^ Fiddlesticks! 
why should he be tormenting himself about those people — no, 
that last thrust, that it was which had wounded him most 
deeply. Bianca^s angry words again sounded in his ears: 

What an idea you have of our mutual relations!^"' and then: 
“ It is a chain, a galling chain, but no happiness. 

‘‘A chain he repeated in an under- tone, pausing in his 
walk — but agairf he said, quickly: ‘-‘Pshaw, girlish whim, 
nothing more! She is too beautiful, too proud — of too original 
a character to submit to the close restraints imposed upon 
other women. He ought to have considered this, he thought; 
he should not be forever trying to win her to his way of tliink- 
■ ing; it must be humiliating for her; she was right to be out of 
humdr, his lovely, noble, precious girl. And she did love him, 
le had often said so in response to his passionate plead- 
In the autumn, Uncle Uerenberg had said, in the au- 
she would be his own, irrevocably his own. Must not 
w... j...sent suffering vanish before this blissful certainty? 

The night wind had risen; it shook the tops of the trees 
above the young man^s head so that their leaves softly rustled 
and ruffled the surface of the dark pool at NormaiFs feet; far, 
far away it fanned dark thoughts and breathed through the 
warm, still summer night whispers of reconciling love and 
sweet and tender longing. “ In the autumn,^^ said Norman, 
softly, once again, “ in the autumn, then comes bliss/ 


CHAPTEE IX. 

The summer had gone, and autumn having entered upon 
her domain, the impress of her touch already began to show in 
the many dints of the forest trees: a clear blue sky arched 
overhead, in the linden avenue of the castle park the first dry 
leaves lay on the ground, and in^the Irving garden bloomed a 
gorgeous array of asters and chrysanthemums. Nets were 
drawn over the vine-covered trellises to protect them from the 
depredations of the dainty- mouthed sparrows, but the orchard 
trees were laden with golden and cherry-cheeked fruit all 
ready for the in-gathering. 

Everything had gone on at the mill in its wonted fashion. 
IIow softly that summer had flown by! And how enjoj^able 
now were the long evenings by the warm fireside. The peo- 
ple at the mill; however; had something else to put them in 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE, 


89 


good spirits; they all knew as well the workmen in the factory 
as Peggy and Dorothy in the kitchen and Peter at the stable, 
that there would soon be a wedding in the house. To him that 
had eyes to see it was clear as daylight that Mr. Selldorf and 
our Lieschen would make a match. His love was so plain 
to be read in that young man^s honest eyes, and never had the 
master been upon such confidential terms with any other, and 
Lieschen^s mother had never looked so kindly upon any of his 
fellows as upon him. Even old Marian always had a friendly 
greeting for him, and said, down in the kitchen, if anybody 
called his name: Selldorf is an excellent young man!^^ Lies- 
chen alone seemed to notice nothing of all this; to be sure, 
she was always friendly and polite to her father’s young friend, 
and invariably put in water, without delay, the bunch of for- 
get-me-nots that he occasionally brought her, but otherwise 
there were no signs of the love that she must certainly feel for 
him, according to Peggy and Dorothy. 

She only does so,” suggested the latter, because thai • 
the fashion with elegant people, but inside it is another th 
— don’t you think so. Miss Marian?” 

Many words make many lies!” Aunt Marian had answered; 
do not disturb yourselves on Lieschen’s account, but stick to 
your pots and pans! A wedding will be in this house some 
day, but who the bridegroom is to be God above knows; we 
can not see into the future, and so you had better hold your 
tongue about things that do not concern you! But, you silly 
things! your heads are always full of beaus and marrying. 
Lieschen knows right well that, 

“ ‘ Maidens should be wide awake, 

Who for life a partner take.' " 

Meanwhile Marian housed her winter supplies in cellar and 
store-rooms with her wonted diligence, and Lieschen had to 
“ help in and see to everything. For you see, my heart’s treas- 
ure, it will teach you to keep house hereafter,” said the old 
lady. To-day for full half the afternoon there had been a 
mighty shaking and rattling among the venerable nut-trees 
behind the house, leaves and fruit falling together to the 
ground, being caught in a great canvas cloth spread out there. 
Peter and Chryssie mercilessly beat the trees with long poles, 
and three to four children grabbled joyously on the ground, 
actually rolling one another over in their haste to gather 
up the spoils. 

Lieschen, who had a visit to-day from Nelly, had just a lit- 
tle -while ago gone away with her and left the children. They 


90 


A TALE OF AK OLE CASTLE. 


had passed into the garden, and now the two girls stood in the 
arbor, in front of the house, near to the sandstone table, over ^ 
which Marian had lain a white cloth, and waited in silence un- 
til the old woman had taken the coffee service from the bench * 
and arranged it on the table. 

You will drink your coffee out here with us, will you not, 
auntie?^^ asked Lieschen, as soon as all was ready. 

Yes, I can,^^ answered Aunt Marian, “ especially as there 
is company in the sitting-room. ^ 

She took her seat by Nelly on the bench, and Lieschen j 

offered to fetch her a cup. “ Are you so busy?^^ she then ] 

asked, as the young lady at her side took her knitting out of a ' 
little basket and diligently began to knit. ■; 

A wedding-present for Norman replied she, in pleasant 5 
tones. ■ 

Good heavens!^^ said the old lady, taking a full cup from 
Tjieschen’s hand with thanks, he is very young yet. It seems \ 
me as though it were only yesterday when hemame bound- 
across the mill bridge in his little black velvet frock. ! 
Jy nodded, but' Lieschen involuntarily looked across at the * 
little bridge, under which the water shot along in a full, clear ■ 
stream. 

Who is in there with father?^^ she asked, in a constrained ; 
voice, as though she would like to turn the conversation into 
another channel; at the same time she smiled at her mother, 
whose face was for a moment visible at the window. 

‘^A strange gentleman. I do not know him,^^ answered 
Marian,, but then suddenly set down her cup, adjusted her I 
spectacles and looked sharply across at the path beyond the 
water. Bless me!^^ said she, was not that Sanna, Nelly, i 
going along there between the trees? Now she is behind the 
alder- and willow-trees. I have not seen her for a long time, 
but I judge that to be her walk. See, it is actually she,^^ was 
her exclamation as she pointed to the gaunt figure in dark 
dress and white apron that had just set foot upon the bridge. \ 

‘‘ Sanna cried Nelly, also jumping up. ‘‘ Good heavens! | 

what is the matter?^^ | 

The baroness desires that you will come to her directly, j 
miss,^’ answered the old waiting-maid in her peculiar voice 
with its strong foreign accent. 

For God^s sake, Sanna repeated the young girl, folding : 
up her knitting, tell me what, the matter is? Am I to go to j 
mamma or grandmamma?^^ < 

To your grandmamma, of course, replied the old worn- i 
an, without even casting a glance at Marian or Lieschen, who | 


A TALE OF AFT OLD CASTLE. 91 

were assisting their friend to collect her colored worsteds and 
put them into the basket. 

Your grandmamma was very angry that you were not at 
home, so angry, that she bade me run here directly, because 
your mamma supposed that you were at the mill again, and 
Henry had no time, because he had to go to the post-office with 
letters. 

But do tell me, Sanna,^^ pleaded Nelly, looking up at the 
tall, gaunt woman, if anybody is sick, or if they have had 
bad news?^^ 

Your grandmamma got a letter telling news of a death,^^ 
replied the old woman, glowering upon Marian, who had risen 
to her feet. 

For Heaven^s sake!^^ shrieked Nelly, gazing upon Sauna 
with horror, say it is not Norman! Sauna, dearest Sauna, 
surely you know, do speak! I beseech you,^^ and she ran 
across and seized her hands imploringly. Lieschen, though, 
seated herself upon the stone bench; it seemed to her as though 
her feet would no longer sustain her, and as if in a dream, she 
gazed upon the group with wide-open eyes. 

I do not know,^^ replied the old servant, shrugging her 
shoulders, while Nelly clapped her hands to her face, and once 
again cried out with a sob: Norman! Oh, God! if it should 
be Norman !''^ 

“ Compose yourself, Nelly dear,^^ now said Marian, sooth- 
ingly, taking the weeping girl into her arms. It is not your 
brother, else she would not take it so quietly. Go home quick- 
ly, and be comforted! It is not he.^^ 

Alas, auntie,^ ^ sobbed she, I can hardly stand for grief. 

Do not cry, young lady!^^ now said old Sanna, too sharply 
emphasizing the words young lady."^^ The Countess 
Stontheim is dead, but your grandmamma forbade me to speak 
K)f it here at the mill, for she would avoid all gossip as much 
as possible, and here — 

She slurred over the rest, while she cast an inimical glance 
at Marian, who still kept her place beside the weeping maiden. 

Well, well,^^ remarked she, you could have kept it to 
yourself, so far as I am concerned. Miss Sanna. But you 
should not have put this poor child into such an agony of 
fright with your tale of death. It would have been time 
enough when you got her home.^^ 

I have nothing whatever to do with you; I am doing what 
my mistress bids me,'’^ contemptuously answered the old wait- 
ing-maid. 

Oh, yes! 1 know you for that of old,^^ said Marian, the 


92 


A TALE OE AN OLD CASTLE, 


blood suddenly mantling upon her cheek, and giving her ad- 
versary a penetrating look. 

1^11 go a bit of the way with you, Nelly, cried Lieschen, 
as though awakening from a trance, and following her friend, 
who sped on in front, while Sanna did not pretend to accom- 
pany them, but stood as if rooted to the spot. 

“ What do you mean by that?^^ asked she, looking across at 
Marian with an expression of irreconcilable enmity, as the lat- 
ter put up the coffee service. As these two women thus faced 
each other, it became evident that here an old, long-restrained 
enmity had suddenly blazed up again in all its original strength. 

What do I mean?^^ answered Marian, fixing her honest 
eyes upon the tall, dark form and fearlessly taking one step 
nearer. “ What do I mean, eh? Miss Sanna, you have no 
need to ask that question; I see it in your face that you know, 
know perfectly well — assuredly it has often enough planted 
thorns in your pillow, and would not let you sleep through 
long, anxious nights, and has lain like a mountain upon your 
breast, a burden that would not be lifted, forced you to tell 
over the beads of your rosary a hundred times, and call upon 
all the saints — conscience it was. Miss Sanna, and a bad con- 
science has wolfish fangs that take sharp, deep hold — 

Oh^ misericordia cried Sanna, clapping her hands to- 
gether with a passionate gesture of rage. This is what I get 
for coming here; the baroness has been right all along in 
always objecting to intercourse with such pletaglio, such miser a- 
bile.;’ 

It is all the same to me whatever your baroness maysay,^^ 
declared Marian; ‘^and you may save your Italian abuse, of 
which I do not understand a word — but one thing more I 
must say to you. Miss Sanna, since accident has brought us 
together — it has long been my desire to do so; you and your 
mistress have a sin upon your consciences that cries aloud unto 
Heaven. Perhaps you have supposed that nobody knew about 
it, perhaps rightly divined that one person knew exactly how 
it came to pass that a blooming young creature should be 
hunted to the death, but I tell you, and you may report my 
words to the lady over there, that God winks at iniquity for a 
long while, but not forever; and that He does not suffer Him- 
self to be mocked, and 1 — I, old Marian from the-^paper-mill 
— pray a gracious God to let me live to see the day when I may 
tell your proud mistress to her face that she is a — 

“ Cielo !” screeched the Italian, beating the air with her 
hands, what a crazy person! 1 only wonder that you do not 
say that we murdered the haughty thing. 


A TAM OF AN OLD CASTLF. 


93 


might indeed reasonably affirm it/’ insisted Marian, 

and if nobody was more haughty than she the world would 
be well off. ” 

^‘Am I to stand and listen to such a thing?’ ^ cried old 
Sanna, turning crimson; do you mean to insinuate that we 
gave her poison or strangled her? If Miss Lisette died, she was 
herself to blame for it; what business had she to dream that 
the baron would marry her ? What is to be the end of loving 
outside of one’s own sphere? Such a gentleman has a hundred 
eyes and looks at more than one pretty girl!” 

What is that you say?” cried the old lady, now quickly 
setting down the waiter of cups which she had taken up, 
“ would you calumniate Baron Fritz as well? He was better 
than 4he whole ship’s crew over there,” said she, pointing to 
the castle, all put together, and if he did become a wild fel- 
low you have yourselves to blame for it. As to her being 
fanciful, blessed Lisette fancied nothing; she was Baron Fritz’s 
true lady-love, and would have been his wife if false wretches, 
worse than robbers and murderers, had not torn them asun- 
der.” 

Sanna laughed rudely and mockingly. Think you so 
really? And I say that so surely as she was but a miller’s 
Lisette, so certain is it that there is no place up yonder for 
such folk. ” 

“ Pride goes before a fall,” said Marian, contemptuously. 
‘‘ God be praised, our folk are much too good and high-minded 
to take part in any such sinful doings as they carried on at the 
castle in those days. The Derenbergs were always people of 
the good old stamp — their nobility was not of blood alone, but 
also of the soul, and it was right so; but since then — well, you 
know what I mean— they would have turned over in their 
graves side by side, as they lie in the old vault, if they could 
have had consciousness of the low estate of their proud 
kind red. ” 

Marian! Marian!” cried a distressed voice from the win- 
dow. 

Directly, Minnie dear,” replied she, again taking up her 
waiter; I^m coming right away. You know we old people 
like to reap up an old story, especially when they have not met 
for such ‘ages as Miss Sanna and I.” So saying, she crossed 
the threshold without even once turning around. 

But Marian, for pity’s sake, why talk so?” said Mrs. Irv- 
ing, reproachfully, as the old woman came in with her face all 
aglow. “ I was really frightened at the dark looks of that 
woman’s angry countenance.” 


94 A tali: * . ’ ^ i »v.i^ 

Not I, Minnie, not 1 /^ replied the old lady, triumphant- 
ly; ‘‘ it was well for me that I could speak out for once. 1 
have waited years for this opportunity; sometimes 1 believed 1 
should have to die without telling them to their faces what a 
great sin they had committed, and now to-day— Oh! 1 was 
much too easy, but if I had not had that false-hearted woman 
under the arching canopy of God^s own sky, but in my own 
room, then you would have heard, Minnie — 

Marian! Marian! vengeance is mine! What would the^ 
pastor say if he could see you now?’^ 

I would not avenge myself, said the old lady, softly, 
for woe always follows in the wake of revenge! But believe 
me, when I saw standing there the woman who had helped to 
bring about all that misery, it seemed to me as though some- 
body were pouring hot, seething oil into my heart — she 
■oke off, for just now Lieschen entered the room. 

Countess Stontheim is actually dead,^^ was the news she 
j-ought. ‘‘ Nellyas mother said so when she met us in the 
park. Norman wrote that she was to be buried to-morrow, 
and that he would bring his betrothed here again immediately 
after. The wedding is not to be deferred, but all remains just 
as it stood before. Tell me, auntie, did Sanna, whom I met 
just now in the woods, stay all this time with you?^^ 

“ Until just now, my darling; and a merry chat we had of 
it, she and I. 

The young girl looked across at her questioningly, and then 
seated herself by the window. Marian and her mother left the 
room. It was so still round about the young girl, whose heart 
was torn by a secret, hopeless love. The yellow leaves floated 
slowly down from the tall linden-trees outside, sere and dead 
were they like her spring-time joys; a few little birds hopped 
chirping from bough to bough. If he should be dead!^^ 
whispered she, in low tones. ‘‘But no, no, it is better so. 
Heavenly Father, grant that he may be happy — for his moth- 
er's and Nellyas sake!"^ the words were pronounced with diffi- 
culty. 

A few days had clasped; Lieschen had most industriously 
seconded Marian in her household duties, and far more fre- 
quently than had been common of late did her clear laugh ring 
forth. “Yes, laugh, my darling,^^ exclaimed the old lady, 
delightedly. “ God loves the cheerful.'’^ She is merry again, 
she has overcome, thought she; the child was so tender in 
years, and life lay before her such a broad expanse, and so in- 
vitingly. And involuntarily arose before her miiid^s eye the 
figure of a handsome, fair-haired young man, who made so 


A TALE OF OLD CASTLE. 


95 


little of himself and yet had gradually won the regard of every 
one in the mill by his sensible and friendly manners. "What 
a fine pair they would makel^^ she whispered to herself. 

Eaidy this morning she had watched him for awhile, as he 
had gone out hunting with the master, his gun over his shoul- 
der, and in so doing had not failed to remark a quick, fugitive 
glance that he cast at the windows behind which Lieschen still 
slumbered, and had thought: ‘‘ If she could see him now, no- 
body could be handsomer. But Lieschen had not seemed to 
hear when she afterward praised him, and laughingly turned 
the subject to something else as soon as possible. It was mid- 
day now, the soup was already smoking on the dining-room 
table, and just outside Lieschen sprung to meet her father, 
whom she saw coming, without thinking of who was with him. 

‘‘ Good-morning, papa cried she, joyously; what do you 
bring with you?^^ Then only she perceived that Mr. Selldorf 
stood behind him, who had removed his hunter^s cap from his 
wavy hair, had laid his right hand in her father^s and was giv- 
ing him a look of entreaty. 

ITl give you an answer this evening, then, dear Selldorf, 
she heard her father say, then more hand-shaking, and the 
young man had disappeared without looking at her. The 
noble-looking father greeted his little daughter as though in 
an abstracted state of mind, and cast aside his game-bag. 

Where is your mother? 1 must speak with your mother, 
said he, hurriedly. 

But Frederick, the soup!^^ called out old Marian from the 
kitchen. 

That is so — then afterward!^^ muttered he. But at table 
he often drew his hand across his face, and then smiled, sud- 
denly becoming grave again. Once he looked at Lieschen so 
inqufringly and withal so mournfully that she lay down her 
fork and asked: 

Father, what has come to you?^^ and Frederick, has 
anything unpleasant happened?^^ asked his wife as well. 

‘‘ You have my leave to guess replied he, cheerfully, 
forcing himself to look unconcerned. No sooner was dinner 
over than he followed his wife to the sitting-room. Lieschen 
walked up and down the garden-walk, and sometimes cast 
timid glances up at the sitting-room window; at last she re- 
turned to the house, but was met by Aunt Marian on the 
threshold, who waved to her to remain outside. 

Full of anxious forebodings she seated herself on the bench 
beneath the window. Inside eager talking was going on, and 
^t last she heard Aunt Marianas voice; “ No, Frederick; ou^ 


96 


A TALE OE A]Sr OLD CASTLE. 


thing you must promise me: if she is not willing then do not 
force her consent^ for a marriage without love is a living sor- 
row. 

Of course/^ answered her father; but we can lay before 
her all the advantages and disadvantages.^^ 

The young girl sitting there on the old stone bench had sud- 
denly turned pale as death. Light had instantly flashed upon 
her as to the subject of discussion — had she lived in a dream 
then? Her parents, her dear good father, could they be ready 
to give her up? Must she go away from the dear old mill with 
a strange man? Away from her mother, auntie, and all that 
was dear and familiar? Was she no longer to occupy her own 
little room, no more have those old castle towers in view? She 
pressed her hands against her breast, and her heart seemed to 
her to beat audibly at the bare idea. 

Lieschen, come here a bit. And it was her father^s voice 
that called to her. Mechanically she arose to do his bidding. 
There she stood now in the sitting-room, on the sofa sat her 
mother, at the window Aunt Marian, and both looked at her 
so peculiarly, so tenderly, yes, she was sure her mother had 
been weeping. 

The old lady at the window got up and went out; she would 
not intrude upon the sacredness of the interview which was to 
follow; quietly she went to her room and took the Bible down 
from her bureau; then seated herself in the old arm-chair and 
folded her hands above the book. ‘‘ God alone Imows what is 
right,^^ whispered she; He may incline her heart and then 
all will be well.^^ Outside the beams of the autumn sun fell 
upon the bed of variegated asters, and long white threads fell 
like a silver veil over the gooseberry bushes, half bare of leaves 
as they were. When spring comes again, how may it be in 
this house?^^ She thought of her darling who had been so sud- 
denly called upon to make the most momentous decision in life 
— how will Lieschen take the declaration? Can it be possible 
that she has not observed how dearly the young man loved her? 
And may she not have a little regard for him? Ah, no! The 
old woman shook her head, for she knew how it would seem 
to that young heart. Ho, she does not love him, and if she 
should give her consent, it would only be perforce through 
regard to her parents’ wishes. Would she in that case be 
happy? Ah! constrained love and painted cheeks are things 
that do not last. Poor child!” whispered she to herself, 

if they will just not persuade her! Minnie will not do it, 
but Frederick, Frederick, he is wrapped up in this young 
mam” 


A TALE OF AX OLD OASTLE. 


9r 


She opened the old book and looked over the yellowish 
leaves, but could not read; the letters danced before her eyes, 
and her hands shook; and now the door-knob was softly 
turned — is she going to see the blushing face of a newly en- 
gaged girl? The old lady held her breath; then the door 
slowly opened, and the young girl stood upon the threshold. 
Had she grown taller in these few minutes! Quietly she 
stepped in, and her pale face wore an expression of deep 
gravity. “ Aunt Marian, said she, gently, I said no. 

Aunt Marian did not answer; she only nodded approvingly 
with her head. You do not love him, then, dear?^^ she 
then asked. “ You see, this question of marriage is one that 
nobody can answer save the parties concerned. 

I can love nobody, auntie, was whispered in the old 
lady^s ear, while two white arms were flung around her neck, 
and a pale face was hidden on her breast. Thus she knelt be- 
side her old friend, who fondly stroked her brown tresses. 

‘^God bless you, my Lieschen!^^ whispered she. ^‘You 
have done right. 

Over in the sitting-room the master of the house was strid- 
ing excitedly to and fro. Mrs. Irving’s eyes were reddened by 
weeping, and she was pleading with him. 

But, Frederick, if she does not love him?” 

‘‘ Minnie, a woman can never reason on such a subject,” 
said he, standing still before her. Look at that young man. 
He is handsome, honorable, loves her, and is of a good family; 
his father writes to me that they will receive the maiden with 
open arms — is not that all that she can desire in a general 
way? B^it there is something behind all this — more than 1 
can explain.” 

Indeed, Frederick, I can not catch your meaning.” 

“ For one thing, the girl has changed so — she who used to 
be so docile and obedient, how firmly she stood there, with 
pale face, and said ‘ No ’ — nothing but ^ No!’ God help me, 
who would have thought it?” 

She is the image of yourself, old fellow,” urged Mrs. Irv- 
ing, rising from her seat and approaching her husband. You 
know,” she continued, with an attempt at a smile, “ how 
when your father was so bent upon your marrying Agnes, you 
too said ‘ No,’ and nothing but ‘ No!’ ” 

Ah! but that was something entirely different, for I had 
already known and loved you; but in this case, why, the child 
has never seen any one else. Heaven knows it has been long 
since I had a task so difficult as will be that of bearing this re- 
fusal to the poor fellow!” 


98 


A TALE OF Ain OLD CASTLE. 


He stepped up to the window and discontentedly gazed out. < 
He did not stir either when the door softly opened and ad- ^ 
mitted Aunt Marian. 

She paused for a moment. ‘^Why, how is this, Minnie, 
you are weeping, and yet nobody is dead, and we need not be 
in such haste surely to give Lieschen up. There is not merely 
a handful but a whole land full of men; the right one will ; 
surely come in due time. } 

The miller at the window made a gesture of impatience,t^as 
though he would answer sharply; then said, quietly: You 
speak according to your comprehension, Marian. 

For that matter, 1 should think 1 ought to be able to give 
an opinion on such subjects, having seen a bit more of life 
than yourself. Lieschen is only over seventeen — hardly more 
than a child, you see; a hundred suitors may come to the mill 
yet — why should she take the first one? He is a fine fellow, 
your friend Selldorf, but all tastes are not alike, and unrequited 
love is like a question with no answer, and entails disaster. 
Please let her be now, Frederick, and do not frown upon her, 
for she is your only one, and why should you force her inclina- ’ 
tions? All this anger will profit you nothing, and you ought 
not to interpose your authority in this affair. So keep the 

S eace, and rejoice that you may have your child awhile yet. 
list let her get a husband, and she is yours no longer. 

Well, well,^^ replied he, impatiently, again resuming his 
walk up and down the fioor. The old lady added not a word 
more; she knew that she had carried her point, and so took 
up her knitting and sat down in her usual place. 

Have you spoken to her, then?^^ asked LiescheiFs mother 
after a long pause. 

Yes, indeed! She came to me and told me exactly how 
things stood, and at last burst into tears and implored me to 
help to reconcile her papa to her.-^^ 

Where is she?^^ asked that gentleman. 

She has gone up to her room.-’^ 

That, indeed!''^ responded he, again pacing the fioor, but 
soon he drew near the door and went out. 

I know exactly where he has gone,^^ nodded the old lady, 
smiling. He was right angry, though. 

It is over now. Aunt Marian; but 1 hardly ever saw him 
so much vexed; I was really frightened. 

Now only look, Minnie dear,^"* said she, pointing out into 
the garden, where, to be sure, the miller was slowly walking 
up the path, having his arm around his daughter^'s waist, while 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


99 


she was leaning her head upon his shoulder and looking up in 
his face, he was talking to her and she smiling back in reply. 

My good husband, my darling child softly said the 
woman at the window. 


CHAPTER X. 

The tidings of the Countess Stontheim^s death had been by 
no means very sorrowfully received; indeed, to the younger 
baroness and Nelly she was personally a stranger. Nelly had 
made some wreaths and sent them to Bianca, with a few lines 
of sympathy, and then the three ladies had put on suits of 
mourning, this too out of regard to outward form, but mainly 
on Bianca^s account, who, from what Norman wrote, might 
now be expected at Derenberg for a longer visit. Norman 
and her father were to accompany her. 

And now the appointed day had come for their arrival. Jn 
Bianca^s room the windows were wide open, and the fresh au- 
tumn breezes had full play in the elegantly furnished apart- 
ment; the sunbeams added new luster to the pale-green satin 
curtains and luxurious cushions of the same material; every- 
where fresh fall flowers were blooming in vases and little 
baskets, and Nelly was looking anxiously around to see if there 
was anything wanting for the spoiled child^s comfort. With 
her simple black stuff dress in thaf; radiant boudoir, she looked 
almost like some poor enchanted princess, who by accident or 
some good spirit had been restored to the splendid surround- 
ings which were hers by inheritance. Her oval countenance 
with its delicate bloom had its beauty enhanced by the deep 
black of her dress, and her white hands emerging from black 
crape ruffles looked almost too small for a grown girl. 

“ How charming this rooip is, grandma,^^ said she, looking 
across at the old baroness, who had just made her appearance 
within the door-way. 

Of course. But for you, mia cara^ I should prefer blue.^^ 

Oh, for me,^^ and she laughed. Grandmamma, what 
would 1 look like in a chamber of silk and lace? 1 would feel 
out of place amid so much perfume and flnery.^^ 

“ You will learn, my child, to be happy in such places. 

The young girl looked up quickly, there was so much seri- 
ousness in her tone. 

“ If my little Nelly is right good, and will only endeavor to 
curb her wild spirits, may be I may give her just such a pretty 
room for a Christmas gif t. 

You, grandmamma?^^ exclaimed Nelly, , incredulously. 


100 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


Ah, no! I would rather have one like Leischen^s, furnished ^ 
with blue and white cretonne — it is so pretty/*^ ^ 

The old baroness shrugged her shoulders and turned to go, 
just as her daughter-in-law came in. 

‘‘ Here I have just had sent to me a whole package of dress 
goods and samples; did you order them?’^ she asked. 1 ^ 
suppose there must be some mistake about it; there are silk 
furniture damasks among them, and various things that we 
can not possibly require. 

I sent that order, Cornelia, impatiently declared the per- 
son addressed; have the things carried to my room!^^ 

Nelly flew off to see after this, and the two ladies stood op- 
posite each other in silence. i 

But why is this?^^ Anally said the younger. ‘ ^ 

Since when have you looked in the glass, Oornelia?^^ was 
the sharp retort by which her question was met. You are 
hardly At to appear before your own servants in that shabby 
gown, much less at a wedding. 

She laughed.. Why, mamma, 1 had already bought a new 
white dress for Nelly and a black silk one for myself.'’^ ^ 

Of the poorest quality, right flimsy taffeta, circus-rider^ s 
silk, as we call it,^^ contemptuously replied the old lady. 

Enough said; the fact stands that I buy what I deem need- 
ful. 

But, mamma — 

You would ask, perhaps, where does the money come 
from? Let me tell you, Cornelia, that time has been when 
the merchants made their thousands out of me, and now once 
more the Baroness Derenberg can procure credit. For the 
present let that suffice, and ITl attend to the rest. Or, is it 
your pleasure, perhaps, that your son be married in a per- 
fectly empty parlor, where the curtains are ready to drop from 
being so moth-eaten, and the furniture covers have holes in 
them as large as that shell? Your daughter-in-law would as- 
suredly turn up her nose, think you not?^^ 

Oh, I did not think of that,^^ gently replied the pale lady, 
as she closed the door, a cool breeze wafting the silk curtains 
far into the room. I only thought,'’^ added she, turning back 
and standing beside the grand piano, which Bianca had caused 
to be sent after her during the summer because she insisted 
that she could not play on the old spinet in the sitting-room, 

I only thought, since we were so alone in the family — 

There again we have your absurdly democratic notions, 
Cornelia. Norman is no adventurer to marry his sweetheart 
wherever he flnds her ; he is the representative of one of the 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


101 


noblest houses in the land^ and his betrothed a member of our 
family. And therefore you may depend upon it that I shall 
see to this ceremony being performed in respectable style at 
leasfc. A lamb would have to change into a tiger, Cornelia, 
ere you would think of such things. 

With flushed face the old lady stalked past her daughter-in- 
law and went to the window. 

I must really beg of you, Cornelia, continued she, to 
alter your narrow way of looking at things when Bianca comes, 
unless you would thoroughly disgust her with a stay here; she 
has just as little patience with that everlastingly anxious care 
and economy that stops to measure every ounce of butter used 
as I have, and now the prime consideration is to retain our 
hold upon her — retain it at any price. Just let the benediction 
be pronounced after the conclusion of the marriage ceremony, 
and all our difficulties will be at an end.^^ 

A deep crimson suffused her daughter-in-law ^s cheeks, and 
tears forced themselves into her eyes. For whom was she sav- 
ing? For whom had she been economical? Why did she go 
in the meanest clothes? Was it not in order that this eccentric 
lady might feel as little as possible the pressure of their actu- 
ally pinching poverty, and live as nearly as possible in the 
manner to which she had been accustomed. Every evening 
Sauna was sent up to her room with tea and cold meat, while 
Nelly and she put up with plain soup or bread and butter. 

What, crying again, Oornelia?^^ was heard in the tones of 
a voice that pronounced German with a harsh, disagreeable 
accent, while in its mother-tongue it seemed fairly to , melt 
into melodious tenderness. Misericordia ! AVhat senti- 
mental creatures these German women are! I am perfectly 
beside myself whenever I see those tears begin to flow; what I 
have just said is only for our good — if you would only take 
that view of it!^"" 

At this moment Nelly again made her appearance. It is 
five o^clock already, mamma, and we may expect them direct- 
ly after six. The table is already set, and Henry will kindle a 
fire on the hearth here directly, and close the windows. I am 
so curious, she continued, to hear all they have to tell — to 
see how Bianca looks in mourning, and how the will turned 
out. As she spoke she looked at her mother, and remarked 
the tears in her eyes. Do not cry> mammal"^ she whispered. 

Norman will be here directly — our dear Norman. 

The will ?^^ asked her grandmother. ‘^Why, of course, 
Norman one half, Bianca the other half, and various legacies 


102 


A TALE OE AN OLD CASTLE. 


to old servants, hospitals, etc. , and evidently for the colonel, 
too, to judge from the interest which he shows in the matter. 

Yes, grandmamma; but remember Norman told us that 
Bianca was everywhere looked upon as sole heiress — 

Oh, pshaw! Then the ground lies even more favorably — 
the husband always controls the wife^s property, you know. 1 
am sure, however, this is not the case. Stontheim loved Nor- 
man far too much. ” 

But suppose the will was made beforehand, grandmam- 
ma.^^ 

“ Then assuredly she left a codicil to it,^^ impatiently an- 
swered the old lady. 

If I only knew exactly when they would come!^^ said 
Nelly; “the stage-coach comes punctually at half past seven 
o^ clock, but Norman wrote that she would travel by an extra 
stage, so that she could rest first at the railroad station and 
stop for dinner, but they will be here certainly before eight 
o^clock. Patience! Patiencek^ Shall I ever learn it?^^ said 
she, laughing at herself. “Only watch the lovely sunset; it 
will soon be dark; oh, I am so delighted about Norman. 

Gradually darkness sunk down upon castle and park, and 
star after star came out in the sky with increasing brilliancy; 
still the lamp was not lighted in the snug sitting-room, and 
only the fire on the hearth cast a flickering light over the apart- 
ment. Mother and daughter were alone; for the old lady had 
left the room. The young girl stationed at the window 
watched the shining throng with her great dreamy eyes; then 
knelt down beside her mother^'s chair, and threw her arms 
around her; that deeply agitated lady pressed a handkerchief 
to her eyes, and her breast rose and fell as she softly wept. 

“ My precious mother, her daughter said, imploringly, 
with her sweet voice, “ do not cry until you make those dear 
eyes of yours red! What is Norman to think when he gets 
here? You see, grandmamma does not mean so much harm — 

“ Ah! Nelly, it is not that,’^ softly responded the weeping* 
woman, “ but this whole day 1 have been pursued by a sense 
of anguish and distress that 1 can not describe. God grant 
that no harm has happened to the dear boy!^^ 

“But, mamma, said her daughter in soothing tones, as 
she pressed her fair head close to her breast, “ what can have 
happened to him? At this very minute he is safely journey- 
ing along in the old yellow post-chaise, with his Bianca oppo- 
site, hence in the most delightful of situations, in his opinion, 
the colonel is telling anecdotes,, and they are all enjoying the 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


103 


prospect of a hot supper and the sight of your dear, kind face, 
my little mother. 

The lady in the arm-chair gave a sudden start. What is 
the matter, mamma?^^ asked Nelly, anxiously. 

“ It seemed to me as though I heard his step,^^ replied her 
mother in a whisper. Did you not hear it, Nelly 
No, mamma, that is simply impossible.’^ 

It grew quiet in that great apartment, the whispering of 
voices ceased; not a sound was to be heard anywhere but the 
crackling of the fire upon the hearth, and now and then a sigh 
from the oppressed bosom of that expectant mother. 

But there — there — yes, there was his step in the passage, 
Nelly !’^ cried the baroness with half^stifled voice, and the 
young girl instantly started to her feet and flew through the 
chamber — the door opened, and a tall figure entered. 
Norman!” shouted his sister, joyfully. 

Norman!” also burst from his mother’s lips. ‘‘ Norman, 
is it you?” 

“Yes, mamma,” he replied, but his voice had a muffled 
sound, as though he must forcibly restrain his feelings in order 
to appear composed. 

“My good boy,” said his mother, fervently, throwing her 
arms around him. 

“ Norman, dear Norman,” said Nelly, tenderly; “ but say, 
where is Bianca?” 

He stood near the fire-place, still having on his cloak and 
cap, while the faint light from the expiring flames did not ad- 
mit of his features being distinctly recognized. 

“Norman, where is your betrothed?” exclaimed his mother 
at last. 

“ I have no betrothed now.” His voice was almost choked 
by grief. 

Nelly uttered one cry of horror, but his mother had not a 
word to say in reply. There was the misery that she had ap- 
prehended. She pressed her son’s hand more firmly within 
her own, as though she would drag him away from the pres- 
ence of some dreadful calamity. 

“ Do not make me weak, mamma!” he implored her, sup- 
porting her to the nearest chair; “ there is no help for it; how 
could I have indulged such a fancy?” He laughed bitterly. 
“ That she — Make a light, Nelly!” said he then, shortly 
and roughly, “and prepare grandmamma! I have not long 
to stay; I must be off again in the morning.” 

With trembling hands, Nelly seized the lamp, the bright 
light of which revealed the paleness of Norman’s countenance; 


104 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


he still stood upon the same spot and stared into vacancy, as 
though lost. 

Norman, my dear Norman whispered his sister, sobbing 
and throwing her arms around his neck. 

Absent-mindedly he stroked her hair. 

“ Grandmamma she then shrieked, running to meet the 
old lady. 

Norman, asked she, entering hurriedly, “ what means 
this? I would not believe it, when Sanna insisted that she 
had met you in the passage. Where is Bianca? Where is the 
colonel? What is the meaning of your coming alone ?^^ 

It means, replied he, slowly, emphasizing each syllable, 
^^that my betrothed, early this morning, shortly before we 
were to set out, has graciously dismissed me. She does not love 
me — that was the reason given me for her sudden resolution, 
and God knows the reason is valid enough Again he 
laughed sneeringly. The old lady fell back as though struck 
by lightning. 

Impossible she faltered, turning pale as death. 

‘‘ Precisely what 1 said myself this morning, when the colonel 
made me this explanation,^^ continued Norman, and a hun- 
dred times have 1 started and put the question to myself, 
whether I were not mad or something of the sort. But no, 
it is fact; Bianca von Derenberg is mine no longer. 

Norman, did nothing go before this?^^ asked his mother, 
who lay back in her chair as though utterly overcome. 

“ Did anything go before?^^ answered he, in cutting tones. 
‘^Of course there did, the opening of the will. Bianca von 
Derenberg is the sole heiress of that immense fortune — that is 
all. Why should she marry a man whom she does not love? 
But console yourself, grandma dear,^^ and he drew one step 
nearer the tottering woman, who was clinging to a chair with 
both hands; “ she is a noble character, nevertheless, for sus- 
pecting that my courtship may have entailed expenses upon 
me, she has had me informed by her father that she is ready 
to pay off all my debts. That was a comfort to the rejected 
suitor, the silly fellow who clung with such blind devotion to 
so false a creature 

Norman came in anguish from his mother^s lips, and 
she stretched out her trembling hands toward the passionate 
youth. But the old baroness had drawn herself up erect. 
‘*We can not be so unfortunate,^^ said she, vehemently. 

Bianca is heiress only on condition of your becoming her 
husband; I have a letter from Stontheim now — 

Do you think, then,^^ asked Norman, with a few steps 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


105 


coming close before his grandmother; do you think that I 
would ever look at her again? If she were to come and kneel 
at my feet and plead with me, I would thrust her away and 
prefer starvation for you, myself, and all the rest — not a penny 
would I accept at her hands; rather a ball through my head. 
Yes, indeed a ball, that would be far more rational, such a 
one as • came to my f ather^s deliverance, as Bianca once in- 
formed me, when 1 was urgently insisting that she should come 
and live with me here at Derenberg; she was afraid, she de- 
clared, to stay in this dismal house, whose last owner had taken 
away his own life; ha! ha! Eeason enough against which no 
sensible man would find anything to oppose !^^ Norrnan^s voice 
sounded hoarse, as though he were half frantic, and the dark 
eyes in his distorted countenance hashed fiercely. 

Mamma! mamma!^^ cried Nelly, in heart-rending tones, 

Norman is ill; he no longer knows what he is talking about. 

The pale lady rose from her chair, stepped up to her son, 
and seized his hand. She made an effort to speak, but her 
lips moved Without bringing forth a single sound, her eyes were 
lifted to his in agonizing entreaty, as though they would say: 

Spare me; have I not suffered enough in my life?^^ He did 
not see those pleading looks; impatiently he sought to release 
his hand from her. 

Let me alone, mamma! let me alone! I am not thinking 
about death; I want to live — for your sake. As for the rest, 
here is a letter from the colonel to the Baroness von Deren- 
berg/ ^ added he, drawing a letter out of his vest-pocket and 
casting it upon the table, evidently an explanation as to why 
it is best so, etc.'’ ^ 

He passed his fingers through his dark hair more than once, 
and moved to the window, then with a quick, firm step crossed 
ISie chamber and went out. 

For a few moments all was still inside. The fine paper of 
the opened letter nestled in the hands of the elder baroness. 

See here, Cornelia, there it is,'’'’ cried she; what did I 
tell you to-day? ^ Another reason for my daughter's asking 
release from her engagement with your grandson,^ she read, 
“ Ms, that she has not been entirely pleased with her Deren- 
berg relations. Why? Spare me the answer; to what end say 
disagreeable things to one another, when all future connection 
is to be so thoroughly dissolved in a short time — ^ Do you 
see,^’ cried she, passionately breaking off, all this is the re- 
sult of your and Nellyas want of tact in your intercourse with 
this spoiled child! Now you have the results of it. Norman 
has you to thank you alone for the downfall of all his hoj^es! 


106 


A TALE OF AX OLD CASTLE. 


Oh, it makes my hair stand on end, so many silly, stupid no- 
tions! To be chained to people of such narrow ways of thinking 
and feeling — it has been the misfortune of my life!^^ 

The old lady had clinched her fists and looked down upon 
mother and daughter with an expression of withering scorn. 

‘‘ Grandmamma, you have a right to scold me,^^ and Iselly 
stepped before her mother as though to protect her, ‘ ^ but 
leave mamma out of the question! Pardon me for venturing 
to speak so to you! But I can not help it. Mamma was 
always frieiidly toward Bianca, more amiable than you were 
yourself. I certainly was not fond of Bianca because 1 felt 
that she engaged herself to Norman only to please her aunt. 
And now I say Norman ought to fall down upon his knees and 
thank God that it has turned out so. And therefore, if you 
please, grandmamma, do not distress poor mamma with un- 
just reproaches on account of this false, heartless creature, 
who could go so far as to slander our dead father and call him 
a suicide — Oh, Lord!^^ cried she, and in an instant was at 
the side of her unconscious mother, using every effort to revive 
her, for she had fallen to the floor in a swoon. 

‘‘ Oh, cielo, cielo murmured the old lady, ‘‘ what a life, 
what a dreadful life!^^ 

The midnight hour had long since struck, and still Nelly 
was /sitting by the bedside of her mother, who was now in a 
raging fever. She was the only one who had met the cruel 
alteration in their affairs with any sort of composure. Ten- 
derly she had laid her exhausted, unconstious mother to rest 
upon her own bed and as much as possible removed every trace 
of the preparations with which yesterday evening they had ex- 
pected to greet the affianced bride of the heir of their house. 
Softly she had glided through the long corridor and listened at 
the door of Norman^s room; there was comfort to her in the 
sound of his footstep, though he restlessly paced the floor. And 
now she sat still again, listening to the breath of her fever- 
stricken mother, every now and then imprinting a kiss upon 
her delicate hands, that were so firmly pressed against her 
heaving breast. The glimmer of morning twilight was at last 
discernible through the curtains, and it gradually brightened 
into tints of rose and purple. 

Nelly went to the window; below her stretched out the park, 
and the leaves upon the trees hung wet and heavy above the 
frosty ground; the mountain ash, crowned with red, stood out 
in bold relief from the midst of the autumnal yellow of other 
trees, and a fine white mist hovered above the forest and hung 
over the tops of the tall trees in the park, like a veil of finest 


A TALE OP AN OLD CASTLE. 10 < 

texture, tinged with rose colors by the rising sun. Weary and 
worn with her night^s watching, Nelly leaned her head against 
a pane of glass and closed her eyes. Suddenly she heard a 
noise behind her, like the moving of a chair. 

^^Mamma!^^ cried she, as she saw her mother, in feverish 
haste, putting on one article of dress after another. 

1 have been asleep so long, Nelly, and done nothing at all 
to console poor Norman. See! it is morning already. No! 
do not hinder me, I must go to him; he is not to lose his faith 
in humanity; he is much too young for that. Do not hold me 
back, Nelly; he will not sleep; sleep does not come readily 
after such a grief as that.’"’ She would hardly allow her 
daughter to throw a shawl around her, and hurried out of the 
room. Nelly did not venture to follow her, but slipped to a 
side door and listened, when suddenly there came a piercing 
shriek! Quick as a flash she darted off and flew down the long 
passage. Her brother's door was open, and inside his room 
stood her mother, trembling and supporting herself upon the 
table. 

In a moment Nelly had taken a survey of the apartment — 
there was the old-fashioned, high-post bedstead, tumbled pil- 
lows; on the table a half-empty bottle of wine with a glass be- 
side it; above the sofa, an empty frame, the large ]3icture 
which had fllled it standing now on the floor with its face to 
the wall; there lay his epaulets and sword on the chair — but 
Norman, where was Norman? 

‘^He is gone!’^ stammered the pale lips of the trembling 
woman; he is gone, Nelly. Oh! if he — if, like his father — 

What, mamma? For God^s sake, say!^^ 

“ If he, Nelly, if he — Oh, I — My Saviour !^'' said she, 
deprecatingly. Hurry, Nelly, look "for him!^^ she then 
eagerly deplored, l ean not; tell him he is to stay with me! 
1 had to endure such a shock once — that was enough; I could 
not stand it a second time.''^ 

Mamma, pleaded Nelly, in deadly distress, what do 
you mean?^^ 

Quick! quick! begone! make haste! He must not die, he 
must live. Go, else they will bring him to me too as cold and 
bloody — she shuddered and pointed to the door. 

The distracted girl had caught her mother^s meaning, and 
anguish laid hold of her heart with vulture-like claws; she flew 
out of the room; but whither, whither should she seek first? 
Mechanically she ran down the steps; the tower door stood 
ajar; at headlong speed she flew across the castle lawn, past 
the stone bears, into the linden avenue. Her brother's desper- 


108 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


ate demeanor, that dreadful hint as to her father — a horrible 
certainty now dawned upon her. She pressed her hands to 
her breast and stood still. Where could JSTorman be? 

Norman she called out; but it seemed as though she 
were choked., Norman!^^ still it was silent all around. 

Damp and wet lay the leaves at her feet — a few little birds 
were fluttering about in the boughs of the trees and with black 
eyes looked curiously down upon the agony of that young being 
of a nobler species. Norman she cried once more, exert- 
ing all her strength, and then gave a long-echoing call — sound- 
ing like a signal, such as they had always used with one another 
when children — he mud hear that ! 

Not a sound gave token that she had been heard; only a 
whisper passed through the old linden-trees, as though they 
were gravely shaking their heads and saying: He is not here. 
At the pond, perhaps, at the pond, she thought, and now as 
she hurried along through the thick undergrowth an unknown 
horror seized her in this quiet solitude. How if she should' find 
him? If he could no longer hear when she, called him? If he 
lay pale and bleeding? Her heart contracted, but onward she 
moved. 

There lay the little dark pool, as peaceful as though there 
were no storms nor tempests in the world; pond-lentils and 
withered leaves swam motionless upon the smooth surface, and 
the stone seat for resting stood empty on the bank. As if re- 
lieved she sighed and walked rapidly forward; the down-hang- 
ing branches struck her in the face and dashed dew upon her 
fair hair. The skirt of her dress was damp and dragged 
heavily behind her — but on, ever on! Anxiously she peered to 
the right and left, from time to time calling upon her brother's 
name through the still morning air. There — steps! As 
though chased she flew forward; there was the trellised gate, 
and one wing was open; already she had hurried through — it 
was a workman, who, taking off his cap, walked past her, 
looking with surprise at the unexpected apparition; then he 
stood still; she had made a gesture as if she wanted to say 
something, but since she kept silence the man asked: ‘‘ Lady, 
are you looking for anything?^^ 

Oh, no, no! I wanted to take a morning walk with my 
brother — perhaps you may have met him?^'’ 

A young officer, do you mean, lady? Yes, I met him just 
now, a little way behind the paper-mill. 

Thanks!^^ she drew a free breath and struck into the path 
leading to the mill; in greatest haste she proceeded. Already 
the dwelling house could be seen through the elder-trees; there 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


109 


was the mill bridge — past! past! as yet they were all asleep. 
Only further! There — Oh, Lord! there sounded a shot, so 
sharply, so frightfully it sounded in her ear. Mechanically 
reaching out for a support, she flung her arm around the tree 
standing nearest her; then glided to the ground. She no 
longer saw how an old woman, as rapidly as her feet could 
carry her, sped across the bridge, how a good honest face 
framed in a white cap stooped over her so anxiously; she did 
not hear the cry for help that rang from the quivering lips: 

Mercy! it is Nelly! our own Nelly! What has happened 
there now?^' 


CHAPTER XL 

The dark curtains were drawn in the castle drawing-room, 
and there, where once had stood the huge, old-fashioned sofa, 
was now found the sick-bed of Nellyas mother. She had fallen 
ill from that unlucky morning when she had sought her son 
and found him not— feeble life wrestled with the black angel 
whose dread presence seemed to make itself felt throughout 
the apartment. In a ceaseless circle her fancy turned upon 
that day when her husband was brought home to her a bleed- 
ing corpse; sometimes it was he whom she saw, sometimes it 
was her son, and in heart-rending tones she would plead with 
him not to die, nor to forsake her, else she could not live. 

It was quiet now in that large room, a slender girlish form 
might be seen lending an anxious ea,r to the whimsical but 
pathetic ravings of the patient who seemed near to death, or 
she would trip with almost inaudible steps across the polished 
floor, readjust the pillows, or bend with intent ear over the 
sufferer to catch the light breathing if she seemed to fall 
asleep. Yes, the miller^s Lieschen was for the second time 
performing tlie part of the Good Samaritan in Derenberg Cas- 
tle, and to-day was the tenth which she had spent here in 
nursing. Long anxious days they had been, and still more 
anxious nights, but this morning the fever had abated some- 
what, the doctor said, and now slumber had come to the relief 
of that exhausted frame. Lieschen took a book from her pocket 
and seated herself at the window, through whose curtains came 
a narrow strip of daylight; she leaned her head against the 
cushion of the arm-chair and closed her eyes. How strange it 
was, that she should be sitting here now in the castle, who had 
never expected to set foot there again. Aunt Marian had 
awakened her in all haste one morning, and she had found 
Nelly lying on the sofa in their sitting-room, wholly uncon- 


110 


A TALE OE AK OLD CASTLE. 


scious, and her clothes all wet with dew. How shocked she 
had been! Hours had passed ere the poor child recovered 
from her swoon, but before that time the door had opened and 
he stood upon the threshold. She had exclaimed in astonish- 
ment and fright, yes, fright, for that youug man who entered 
with lines of pain deep drawn around his mouth, and lusterless 
eyes fixed listlessly upon her — surely he could not be the Nor- 
man of earlier days, with his proud, handsome features always 
overflowing with merriment. 

Is not my sister here?^^ he had asked in tones of deep de- 
- jection, and then, upon catching sight of her lying there, pale 
and unconscious, a look as of deep compassion had settled 
upon his face. 

What else had happened? Aunt Marian and he had whis- 
pered together in low tones, but Lieschen had comprehended 
the meaning of his words: his mother was very sick and he 
wanted help — Sauna was so awkward and grandmamma so 
complaining with headache; and now Nelly, too, poor Nelly! 

“ 1^11 go with you,^^ Lieschen had declared. And then she 
had walked along in silence at his side, nature^s sadness being 
in harmony with her feelings on that autumnal morning. 
Not a word did he speak to her then, and not a word- had 
passed his lips up to this time, however often he came into the 
sick-room and drew back the bed-curtains in order to look at 
his mother. 

And Lieschen knew why he was so gloomy and so silent. 
The shining engagement-ring was missing from his hand, and 
the troubled expressions of the patient had too plainly told the 
sad secret. Oh! that beautiful, false creature! How Lieschen 
did hate such faithlessness! And how right had Nelly been 
when she said: “She does not love him.-"^ But he — if she 
could only say a few comforting words to him! 

Now the door of the sick-room- was softly opened and Nelly 
entered. “ How sweetly she is sleeping,^' whispered she, with 
a glance at the invalid and seating herself on a low stool at her 
friend^s feet. “ God be thanked! The doctor thinks that the 
danger is over. Ah! Lieschen, how happy I am in this hope! 
I feel myself strong again now, and you are to sleep to-night, 
you dear thing !^^ 

“ No, you must, Nelly. No contradictions,^^ said Lieschen, 
decidedly. “ The doctor will not hear, of your sitting up on 
any account. After awhile you must put on a shawl aud go 
out a little into the open air; your brother will gladly go with 
you, 1 know. 

Nelly sorowfully shook her head. “ Oh, yes, he will go 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


Ill 


with me, it is true; but, Lieschen, you can not imagine how 
dreadful it is to be alone with him! He goes.moodily along*by 
my side, and then suddenly begins to whistle merrily, like 
somebody desperate. Ah! Lieschen, I feel better with you 
than anywhere else. If it were not for you and Aunt Marian, 
and if your good mother did not attend to us, we would be 
badly off up here indeed. 

Do not mention it, Nelly, whispered the young girl, 
blushing and laying her hand over her friend^s mouth. 

While the two maidens were thus talking in the sick-room, 
the old baroness sat fretting up in her own room. It must 
be some time,^^ said she at last, talking to herself in low tones. 

I must talk with him as to what is now to be done.^^ She 
got up and pulled the bell-rope. 

‘^ Tell my grandson to come to me,^^ was the brief, per- 
emptory order given to Sanna, who came to her call, and she 
resumed her seat. 

Only a faint light penetrated into the chamber through the 
red curtains, for out-of-doors the sky was cloudy, and a sharp 
easterly wind began furiously to sweep away the leaves from 
the trees; a wood fire was flickering on the hearth, casting 
gleams of brightness upon the red cushions and curtains; the 
faded colors assumed almost their pristine brilliancy under the 
influence of such a reflection; but gloomily the baroness looked 
into the dancing flames. 

Come in!^^ she called out, at the sound of a quick rap at 
her door. 

I wanted to ask fora brief interview with you, grandma, 
began Norman, coming in after he had made his bow and 
standing still behind the chair which the old lady had directed 
him to % a wave of the hand. Mamma is better. I want to 
be off. 

Can you keep your place in the army?^^ asked the old 
lady, in a spiritless tone. 

He looked down sorrowfully. I do not know,^^ said he; 

it depends upon what the moods of my creditors may turn 
out to be. The probability is that, so soon as the news of my 
broken engagement is made public, they will rush upon me 
like a pack of blood-hounds; the affair will come before the 
regiment; the colonel will question me: ^ Can you pay or not 
Then will come the end. My destiny will overtake me, as it 
has so many before me. 

The old lady listened to him as composedly as if he had been 
^hout a party of pleasure. Hell wig must procure 

counsel/" said she^ pb^V^^vei^. 


112 


A TALE OF AFT OLD CASTLE. 


‘‘ Hell wig? Yes, if he could make money out of nothing. i 
He has just lately acquainted me with the impossibility of fur- 
nishing me with two hundred dollars, a sum that I had to pay 
Wagenbauer on a certain date. The man was to wait until 1 
— well, until the end of October, he closed abruptly. “ Oh! 
they were all waiting; there was no hurry whatever — but look! 

I was Aunt Stontheim^s nephew and on the point of marrying 
her niece — 

“ To what amount do your debts run up?^^ asked his grand- 
mother. 

He made a deprecatory gesture. “ Why would you know? 
They can not be paid yet. 

A long pause ensued. Norman was considering with appar- 
ent interest one of the Italian landscapes in its gilded frame. 
Out-of-doors the wind had risen powerfully; fiercely it blew 
down the chimney, and made the sparks fly out upon the faded 
carpet and the old lady^s black worsted dress. 

“ Norman, there is only one way to save yourself and us. 

He slowly turned and gave her an inquiring look. 

“ You must make a rich match elsewhere as soon as possi- 
ble. 

“ How, grandma?^^ 

“ There are girls enough, rich, pretty girls, who purchase 
husbands, as they say — 

“ That, indeed, I understand, replied he, lightly. 

> “ Consider, Norman! The question is not only as to your 

own livelihood; it concerns us all. 

“ Have you any other communication to make?^^ asked he 
in a tone that silenced the old lady. Nothing? Then you 
will allow me to take my leave; I want to see how they are 
down-stairs. He bowed and left the room. 

Almost mechanically he directed his steps toward the sick- 
room; but in the ante-chamber he stopped; it seemed to him 
as though he heard whispering inside; then he walked to the 
window and pressed his brow against the glass. What his 
grandmother had just said to him had fallen like sharp acid 
into the fresh wound under which he was suffering; the hot 
pain drove the blood into his cheeks; before his eyes hovered 
perpetually an alluring, enticing image, that would not leave 
him, exorcise it as he might a thousand times. Again he saw 
her as she had appeared to him that day after the opening of 
the will; when it had been so quiet, so lonely in the splendid 
villa; the swarm of visitors had dispersed, the colonel had 
dropped asleep after dinner, and he was alone with her— '^^r 
the first time since they had left the castle - flow wonderfully 


A TALE OF AET OLD CASTLE. 113 

well black became her! The new mourning prepared for her 
was trimmed with crape, and her golden hair was tied up with 
black ribbons! Dreamily she leaned back in an arm-chair 
while he was speaking to her; pouring out the tale of his love, 
of his desire to call her his own; of all the bliss with which his 
heart was overflowing. Could it be that she had not heard 
him? The glance that she fixed uj)on him \vhen fie seized her 
hand was like cold iron entering his soul, and gave him the 
first fell suspicion of what was t^o follow. She had suddenly 
arisen even while he talked, and he saw her vanish behind the 
'portiere. Once more the remarkable beauty of her golden 
hair struck his dazzled vision as she disappeared beneath the 
lifted curtain of the open door, and then he was left alone with 
his burdened and sorrowful heart. 

She sent word that she had never loved him — only engaged 
herself to him to gratify her aunt! And yet those yellow 
leaves whirling about in the linden-tree walk could testify that 
she had plighted to him her troth, repeating a thousand times 
that she loved him, loved him more than everything else in the 
world, and now — now all was over! Should he sell himself, as 
his grandmother advised? No, death would be preferable — 
even death! 

He groaned aloud and gnashed his teeth; where was all that 
bliss in which he had so confidently believed? The old proverb 
came into his mind: 

“ Hear never what despair would say! 

Believe — and bliss will come one day/* 

Eidiculous, that it had forsaken him so soon! 

Then a light step was heard behind him, and he turned — a 
flushed and glowing face it was that met his view. 

Your mother is asking for you, lieutenant, softly said a 
clear voice. He passed by Lieschen und into the sick-room, 
while she stood at the window which he had just left. A fine 
rain was coming down out-of-doors, enveloping the whole 
region in a damp fog; she looked down in the direction of her 
parents’ house, but she could not discern it through the murky 
atmosphere. I wonder what they are all about down there, 
mother, father and Aunt Marian? Father most likely is out 
hunting. Ah, no! he has to work so constantly now at his 
desk, since Mr. Selldorf’s sudden departure.” Again a deep 
blush suffused her cheeks. 

In the next room all had been quiet at first; the door stood 
half open^ Norman was probably kneeling at his sick mother’s 
bedside, and now his voice was heard; ^^My good little 


114 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


mother, you thought I was going to do like Squire von Streit- 
witz? Oh! no, I still have you and Nelly leffc/^ So tender, so 
consoling were the sounds, and yet suppressed tears made the 
words indistinct. And then the mother’s weak voice — Lieschen 
could not distinguish her words, but through the cadence of 
broken sounds breathed a sense of sweet comfort, a joyful 
gratitude that she held her son in her arms, and all that full- 
ness of a mother’s love, which was meet to help, support and 
> counsel —soothing and composing were those sounds, as though 
there was a sick child to rock to sweet repose. 

And then all of a sudden — could it actually he so? — there 
came a sound as of weeping, forcibly repressed sobs. Could it 
be Norman? Lieschen turned around suddenly and listened 
with blanching countenance. Then do men weep, too? She 
hurried to the door, her impulse was to flee; he must not 
know that she had heard how he — Then, he came out of his 
mother's room with grave face and compressed lips, but his 
eyes^ — yes, thej; were still moist from tears that had been shed 
for his lost bride. 

She stood close before him with her hands folded across her 
breast, as though she would ask pardon for having so seen him. 
He too received a sudden check — he looked across at her and 
read heartfelt sympathy in her eyes. Memory carried him 
back again to those days when a little girl had so often com- 
forted the wild boy if he had lost patience in his childish 
sjDorts, and wept hot tears in the wantonness of his boyish 
anger. 

Lieschen,” said he tenderly and gratefully, offering her 
his hand. 

Norman, dear Norman,” she responded in a voice half 
stifled by sobs; for one moment he felt a little hand within his 
own, and then she was gone. 


CHAPTER XII. 

Mokotoisty had again returned to life at Castle Derenberg. 
Norman had taken his departure. Sorrow had undisturbed 
course through its waste places, and along with it followed care. 

“ You must help, Hellwjg,” the old baroness had said to 
that helper kept for a time of trouble, in a tone half im- 
perious, half imploring. ‘‘ Indeed you must! Only procure 
us money for a short time, that my grandson be not over- 
whelmed just now! The rest will be provided for afterward — 
time will bring its own remedy. ” And the old man, with a 
heavy heart, had given his promise to try “ and help that uu- 


A TALE OF AK OLB CASTLE. 


115 


lucky wight Norman out of the mire/^ and at the same time 
asked how the baroness expected to provide for that ‘^rest.-’^ 
And in her nert’ous way she had given to that faithful coun- 
selor of her family a few hints as to the manner in which she 
expected to find deliverance, when he had smiled almost sadly, 
and a dubious, “What, that dangerous experiment for the 
second time?^-" had crossed his lips. “God grant, ^Mie had 
added, “that it succeed better this time! For that matter, 
baroness, to-day such a thing is not so easy to manage as you 
think; fathers who receive a; noble young scapegrace of the 
sort with open arms, esteeming it an honor to pay his colossal 
debts, grow more and more rare. Money is scarce, baroness, 
very scarce, and, thunder and lightning! who commits the in- 
discretion of buying carriages and fine furniture for a bride in 
advance? There was time enough to have done all that; you 
should not sell the ox-hide before your animal is slaughtered. 
You, baroness, who have had so much experience of life, 
should have taken the young fellow by the ears and taught 
him better — he did not use to be hard to guide. 

The eyes of the younger baroness had turned reproachfully 
to her mother-in-law, entreatingly to the old man; those plead- 
ing orbs had at least so much influence as to induce him to 
promise that he would do his best. 

Lieschen had long ago returned home to her parents, accom- 
panied by the fervent thanks of Nelly and her mother. She 
came almost daily to the castle, and her merry chit-chat, her 
bright and gladsome presence brought sunshine for hours at a 
time into those lofty silent chambers. Nelly would then for a 
short time forget her melancholy, only, however, to feel doubly 
wretched afterward. 

How pleasantly she is situated! would she think, and as she 
watched her friend’s retreating form down the avenue of 
mighty linden-trees, now stripped bare of their leaves, as she 
hastened on her homeward way. She would picture to herself 
Lieschen’s comfortable home, and in spirit saw her throw her 
arms around the stately master of the house, calling him her 
own dear papa of whom she had a right to be so proud; and 
then Nelly’s eyes would overflow again with the bitterness of 
her woe. 

Thus had November come with its gloomy weather; again 
storms were raging around the old castle as they had done 
already for a hundred years; moist and -heavy hung the clouds 
over the landscape, and rain mixed with snow crackled against 
the window-glass. Such weather wields its own influence over 
the souls of men, and especially over an invalid, who so much 


110 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


needs enlivenment, and involuntarily the question forces itself 
to the lips: “ Will the sun ever shine? AVill these storms ever 
cease?^^ Well for the human heart is it that hope is its herit- 
age even in days of deepest distress. Still is she ever ready to 
whisper words of cheer to the despairing breast, and paint upon 
the dusky background shining arabesques and lonely wreaths of 
flowers; from among them emerge various bright, ardently 
longed-for pictures of the future; tearful eyes can then look up 
more confidently, and timid hearts I'evive — for all may yet 
be well. 

And time moved on upon dull and leaden wing. Every 
week came a letter from the absent son, which the mother 
opened with aching heart, dreading every time to learn some 
piece of bad news. ‘ ‘ Do you not see, mamma, how unhappy 
he is; so crushed, so different from what he used, to be?’^ Nelly 
would then sigh, reading the letter over and over again, behind 
the brevity of which a deeply wounded spirit seemed to be con- 
cealed. 

It goes well enough with him/’ the old baroness used 
contemptuously to say; ‘^and he expects the same from us; 
he has a great deal to do— that^s all!"^ At another time she 
would exclaim: He is no man, else he would risk everything 
sooner than be brought to extremity. Good heavens! If I 
were only in his place and had life before me, young as he is! 
Oh! that wretched German sentimentality, which can not take 
heart after experiencing one disappointment, and reach out 
boldly after new happiness. Orribilef It is our bane: I never 
would have thought that he too could be of this sort. 

And, trembling from excitement, the old lady would seat 
herself and write her grandson a letter calculated to rouse his 
spirit, and another to Hell wig for the purpose of spurring him 
up to put off the creditors as long as possible. 

November passed away, and December came with its stormy 
winds; they whistled in the tall chimneys, their screeching 
turned the rusty weather-cocks on the towers; they bowed down 
and shook the old trees of the forest; the rain pattered as 
usual against the windows, and soaked the paths through the 
park, until on a bright starry night of winter the jingling frost 
arrived suddenly and made the roads as smooth and firm as a 
causeway. Quickly the pond was covered with a mirror-like 
crust of ice, and the first fine flakes of snow spread a light 
mantle over path and stile. 

‘‘ Christmas will soon be here,^^ said the villagers with glee. 

“ Christmas will soon be here, mamma,^^ said Nelly, too, to 
her invalid mother, who sat by the fireside knitting, but in her 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


117 


face appeared hardly a gleam of the joyousness that usually 
betokens that delightful season. If Norman just comes?^^ she 
added, questioningly, flinging her arms about her mother’s 
neck; dear mamma, I shall not care for any presents if Nor- 
man will only come. ” 

‘‘ It will soon be Christmas now,” exulted Lieschen to Aunt 
Marian, when next morning she saw the whole landscape 
radiant in its pure covering of snow. Surely, what an utter 
change had come over the girl during these last weeks! That 
old roguish waywardness which became her so well again shone 
mischievously out of her large blue eyes, and her cheeks were 
once more as rosy as ever. This miracle dated from her last 
stay at the castle— yes, there was no mistake about it. She 
joked with her father as of old, and played various little tricks 
that ni'ade even her mother laugh heartily. 

And now Christmas was indeed close at hand. Whenever 
Aunt Marian looked at her she had some secret to whisper 
close in her ear whether relating to the Christ-child, Christ- 
mas-tree, preparations for Christmas, or such a wonderfully 
lovely present for auntie that she could never guess what it 
was. 

And all this merriment and joy were the result of a single 
moment, that single word “ Lieschen,” pronounced in a soft, 
grateful tone; a single passing pressure of the hand! 

And Anally the presence of the hallowed eve was abroad 
upon the wide earth; it bore a gleam of heavenly brightness 
into each house; it kindled wax tapers upon green trees both 
in palaces and huts, and they shed their light equally upon 
glad countenances, costly presents and the smallest tokens of. 
love; the church bells rang out upon the cold, crisp winter 
air, inviting mankind to a service of thanksgiving, and high 
above the glad world arched the deep blue sky; in silvery, 
twinkling splendor the stars shone down, and “ Glory be to 
God on high!” was wafted up to them, and upon earth peace 
and good-will to mSn.” Peace upon earth! And yet there 
were human dwellings into which the mild guest found no ac- 
cess, hearts that could entertain no feelings of joy on account 
of grief and trouble. Ah! how many of such there were! 
And on no other day does a poor child of humanity feel his 
woes more keenly than on this one, when all rejoice and peace 
abides in all hearts save* his own. Ah ! then the fretting ques- 
tion will goad him: Why am I — why are we all excluded from 
joy? 

This was the very question that spoke mutely from the 
young girl’s eyes, who stood there at the window gazing out 


118 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


into the glory of the night. Down there at the mill the 
windows are all aglow with bright light; even now their Christ- 
mas-tree is burning/'' whispered she, pressing her hand against 
her breast in an agony of childish grief. What a longing came 
over her to see its beauties lighted up with a thousand tiny 
tapers! Lieschen had begged her to come; she might at least 
see the tree when it was lighted — but no, where would be the 
good.^ What was the miller's Christmas-tree to her? It was 
none of hers, and why should she look into Lieschen's happy 
face? Her dull, quiet home would only seem more melancholy 
after such a sight. She turned and went to her mother's seat, 
in order to press her cheek against that dear face; she felt 
with her hand and found only the empty cushion. Mamma!" 
she called, softly; still there was no answer. ‘‘ Now she has 
gone up to grandma's room again," she whispered, sinking 
back in the soft arm-chair. ‘‘ They all leave me alone, just 
as soon as they get together! Mamma and Norman — ah! yes, 
Norman is there." Assuredly there was sweet comfort in that 
thought. To-morrow he certainly could not have so much 
business to talk about with grandma — what could be of so 
much importance as to keep them conferring as they had been 
doing ever since his arrival? Could it still be that Bianca — ? 

Nelly was mistaken; her mother was not upstairs where the 
old baroness was discussing with the young officer hateful, un- 
comfortable matters so ill-suited to the season. 

^‘On New-year's-day — hardly eight days more!" said the 
old lady, dispiritedly, looking down sadly. 

On New-year's-day," assented Norman, 'Who stood before 

her. 

And you say Hell wig can devise no expedient?" 

So he informed me." 

But, dio mio ! commonly it is not so hard for an officer to 
get money!" 

“ Commonly! You forget, grandma, that our circum- 
stances are sufficiently well known. No banker would lend 
me money, with the certain prospect of losing it, and such 
sums besides. The only favor that I could obtain was — a re- 
spite until New-year's-day." 

And yet you have not even tried to take the path 1 recom- 
mended to you as the only means of deliverance?" 

He looked across at her defiantly. “No; my creditors in- 
deed advised the same course, and even offered to clear my way 
— but I would rather a thousand times go to America and 
work like a slave than assume such a yoke." 


A TALE OF OLD CASTLE. 


119 


As you said the old lady, dryly; it is your affair, 

not mine.-^^ 

‘‘ Quite right!^^ he laughed. But the devil take the whole 
business! I did not come to lay complaints before you; 1 
want to celebrate Christmas with you — Christmas repeated 
he, bitterly. 

Very well, then!^^ came from his grandmother, I shall 
try what I can do myself — there are still people in the world 
who have not forgotten the name Derenberg. To-morrow 
morning — no, this very evening-^ — ITl write to the Duke of 
E 

Nornian^s lips curled scornfully. He thought of the paint- 
ing in their picture-gallery which represented his grandmother 
as the young lady of the house, welcoming the duke to its hos- 
pitalities. ‘‘ Beggary he whispered inwardly, drawing his 
hand across his brow and looking over at the tall, darkly 
dra-ped form that stood immovable before the table with reso- 
lute miei]. That proud woman grieved him sore; he knew 
that it would be indescribably hard for her to write such a 
letter. 

‘‘ Let that be, grandmamma imj)lored he, tenderly; 

you must not thus humiliate yourself. '^ 

No, ITl not let it be,^"' retorted she, for I see that I am 
the only one who can possibly find a means of deliverance, 
although 1 am only an old woman. 

But, grandmamma, will the old gentleman still remember 
you?’^ 

She laughed. Will you ever forget the image of your 
betrothed,^'’ asked she, her dark eyes fairly flashing with ex- 
citement. Certainly not! Well, know that the Duke of 

K can just as little forget Leonora von Derenberg — for he 

loved me, Norman, from the first hour that he ever set eyes 
upon me. He was as yet hereditary prince when my husband 
presented me at court. It was upon occasion of some festivity 
given in honor of — I forget whom now. When I appeared 
among the brilliant throng that filled those wax-lit halls lean- 
ing upon your grandfather^s arm, because the ducal pair 
wished to see me, the ci’owd moved aside right and left to 
make room for the foreigner, the Italian; and when I bowed 
before the noble pair there was a faint hum of surprise. When 
1 lifted my eyes they niet those of a handsome young gentle- 
man fixed upon me in passionate adoration. I was seventeen 
years old, Norman; and what is more intoxicating to a woman 
than to be admired and — But it is all gone, gone!^^ whispered 
^she. Wherefore recall the past 


120 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


And/^ she went on dreamily, without observing her grand- 
son^s flushed face, ‘‘ he came often to Derenberg, being my 
escort at every opportunity, until he went upon a distant jour- 
ney. His good parents were solicitous about him, and my 
husband played the part of the absurdest Othello in the world. 
Why, he hated the jovial prince because my lips smiled when 
he spoke and my eyes sparkled when I saw him, as they had 
almost forgotten how to do, for I was pursued by an inexorable 
ennui in the midst of my stupid surroundings — sky, earth, 
company, even the entertainments gotten up by my husband 
to amuse me. He, in combination with his princely parents, 
removed the butterfly who flitted so giddily about the shining 
flame — narrow-minded, like everything else here in this coun- 
try! 1 knew who it was that had aroused my husband’s sus- 
picions, knew who had persuaded him to see in its worst light 
this perfectly harmless intercourse. Oh! how 1 hated him — 
my brother-in-law — the one — ” 

Grandmother! And would you write to that man? Ask 
pecuniary aid of him because he once admired you? Him 
whom my grandfather hated ?^^ 

‘^1 have grown into an old 'woman now, my child, she 
answered, proudly, with a toss of her still beautiful head, and 
to myself alone am responsible for my mode of action. When, 
twenty years of ago, utter poverty burst in upon us, he wrote 
to me that he had not forgotten the woman who had once in- 
thralled his young heart — by one step I might have saved all 
of us from such trying circumstances — but I knew what was 
due to the name of Derenberg, what was due to myself. She 
stood before her grandson with uplifted hand, and her great 
eyes flashed in towering pride. 

Think you that it is easy for me to write to him?^^ con- 
tinued she. “1 do it for your sake, Norman, for your hand 
has been paralyzed by the first bit of misfortune that grazed 
your brow. It has made of you a pitiful dreamer, instead of 
an energetic man — so let me act instead of you!’^ She strode 
past him and disappeared in the adjoining room, the door 
slamming behind her with such violence as to blow the crimson 
curtains far into the room. 

Norman stood almost motionless by the fire-place. Every 
now and then though he stirred, gently shaking his head, and 
a bitter smile curling his lip. Suddenly it seemed, however, 
as though his hitherto cowering form drew itself up to its full 
height, as if he were transfixed by an idea, a determination, 
that fired him. 

Norman!” called a sweet voice, and his sister^s fair head 


looked in tliroi.^h , he >\)'ds oi ili<^ vr.,-.. .« , ; 

come down! — qvi- k: ■ , 'e --a a' imo 

the room and m' I 1 ulose ‘ . a y. . • \ r-^* 

I believe she ' i .. ^ <: ; ' ;, ! 

mas-tree, for Is; ; -^'h '■ ■ i ■ . ih.. - -r: a., cn m ‘i' 

door/^ He look.:; t . i, ] i:> * 

child-like gladness. ' ^ ^ ^ ‘‘Grandma is 

not going with us, though — she does not care to see a German 
fir-tree/^ 

“ Yes, come, Nelly said he; and throwing his arm around 
her waist he drew her rapidly out of the room. 


CHAPTEE XIIL 

It was already twilight when Lieschen, upstairs in her own 
little room, packed a basketful of pretty sweetmeats. There 
was always something particularly nice to be added, and at last 
she closed the bursting top, and a low, “ there now, hardly 
anything is in it but marchpane and chocolate, such as she 
likes best,^"' came from her red lips. Then she began to sing, 
j while she put on a fur-lined jacket, found yesterday under the 
Christmas-tree, and a little black velvet cap trimmed with 
marten, that sat jauntily upon her brown braids. Her toilet 
completed, she looked searchingly into the mirror and sudden- 
ly began to laugh. 

“ Just like a young man! Auntie was right,^^ said she, 
pushing her pretty head-gear a little more firmly down upon 
the middle of her forehead. “ Now for my muff, and then the 
word is ‘ haste, ^ in order that I may get back home in time.^^ 

She picked up muff and little bastet, and sprung down the 
steps. “I am going to see Nelly, she called out as she 
passed the sitting-room, opening its door a little way. 

“ Only be sure and get back in right time, Lieschen,^^ was 
her mother’s exhortation, “else Uncle Pastor will feel hurt 
and the children get impatient. You know the Christmas- 
tree is to be lighted for them at seven o^clock.^^ 

“ Yes, yes, to be sure,^^ said Lieschen, and — was gone. 

Aunt Marian looked after her as she crossed the mill bridge. 

“ Alas!^’ she soliloquized, “ how will it look at the castle? 
They will have no Christmas there this year. 

Lieschen had been already sitting a quarter of an hour chat- 
ting with Nelly by the fireside; opposite, Norman was leaning 
back in an arm-chair. ,He was busied with his own thoughts, 
and only occasionally listened if one of the girls awakened him 
from his reverie by her cheerful laughter. 


> •' ! ;i ’ -.t- * , r V .I: V : n father/^ I 

./escb' : ^ U .o ^aueied "The best ; 

iiiediv: . for t cotita^xca uie money for a trip to Italy. You 
know, iNelly, that the doctor has been telling mother for a 
long time that she was not to spend the winter here, but she 
opposes it with all her might. However, she has now half- 
way given her consent. 

She is not going alone, is she?^^ asked Nelly. 

No: papa is to go with her in any case, and — 

Well, and?^^ 

“ And 1/’ added Lieschen, hesitatingly. 

“ Why, are you not delighted with the prospect?^ ^ cried ' 
Nelly, excitedly. Oh! to Italy, how delightful it must be 
there!^^ 

No, I would rather stay here with auntie; I am in perfect 
health; and it can not be more delightful anywhere than we 
have it here. 

“ Oh, Lieschen, you silly little thing I'’ ^ chided Nelly. 

Do not say so, Nelly; you must not tliink me silly, for in- 
deed I have another reason. You must not betray me, though, 
for I have not yet said anything about it to father. W ell, you 
see, the inspector of our mill has a daughter Bertha, who has 
breast complaint; the doctor says nothing can save her but a 
stay at Vevay or Montreux. She is much sicker than mother; 
and now I would dearly love to have Bertha go in my stead. 

I am still young; there is time enough yet for me to see ^ Mia 
Italia/ that I may be fit to converse with your grandmother.^^ 
Norman suddenly rose and walked to the window. The 
young girl had spoken in low tones; but in spite of this every 
syllable had penetrated clearly to his ear. That was just like 
herself — the kind-hearted Lieschen that he had known of old — 
always ready to give her buttered bread to poor children, and 
dispensing freely of her bright coppers that had been so care- 
fully saved up by Aunt Marian — now, too, she shook her head 
in the same half -defiant, half-bashful way that she used to do 
when scolded. And then another image arose before liis 
mind^s eye — a delicate little figure, with auburn hair floating 
about it — a being that shrunk back from contact with beggars, 
and whose little hand would have pitilessly waved all such 
rabble from the door; who drew up her dress with an ex- 
pression of disgust if, in walking, a cripple held out his hand 
to her beseeching alms. ^‘Do not give him anything, Nor- 
man,^'" had been her entreaty, he makes me shudder — come, 
come — aunt puts quantities into the poor-box.-’^ Thus had 


A TALE OP AIT 01 > \ 

she passed by the appeals of the v' - * y 

fumed handkerchief before her face. 

Out-of-doors the peaceful landsc • >rigi'‘ a iih :;no\v 
each tree standing out distinct from the clear background, and 
below light flashed from the windows of the mill. That snug 
old mansion; how hospitable it was in his recollection! How 
comfortable were its inmates, their lives how free from care, 
without anxiety for the future or dread of coming want! 

From those youthful days, from those youthful days, 

Rings a song still in mine ear; 

Oh! how far away — oh! how far away 
What to me was once so dear.’* 

With feeling and tenderness were these words sung near by; he 
turned — there she stood at the little old piano, a maiden tall 
and yet slenderly built, her flnely shaped head was inclined 
slightly forward, and by the faint light which the lamp cast in 
that corner Norman thought that he saw a blush mount to 
Lieschen^s cheek. 

When I took my leave, when I took my leave, 

Then the world seemed full to me, 

When I came again, when I came again, 

I All was empty as could be.” 

Deep emotion trembled in Lieschen^s voice. 

The last verse too!^'’ pleaded Nelly. Mamma loves fco 
hear it so much.'^^ 

I can not sing any more,^^ she objected, softly, turning 
back into the room. 

‘‘ Oh! what a pity, Lieschen,^^ now said Nellyas mother; 
not even a Christmas song?^'^ 

Immediately she went up to the piano again and sung: 

A star is sparkling in the sKy, 

To earth its bright beams tend, 

And holy angels hymn on high 
The Saviour to descend. 

” Around that wretched manger see! 

A radiant light now gleams; 

Cradled in straw that babe — ah! me. 

His face divine though seems. 

** Oh, men! rejoice ye in the hour 
That girds with peace this earth, 

To Jesus Christ be praise and power! 

Saved are we by His birth. 

** Ye creatures all — ye great and small — 

Kneel down from far and near! 

And thank the Lord with heartfelt word, 

For Christ His gift so dear,” 


N OLD CASTLE. 


’ TAU-: 

^ . . • ' ristmas cafol echoed sweetly from 

o. »■ . at; quiet ensued; for each one it 

h: ' ! . i.jcT; es, and yet all had their root in 

the same^ soil. ; 

The pale invalid in her arm-chair over there thought of the 
time when as a young mother she had taught those words to 
her boy, that he might repeat them before his father, under 
the gorgeous Christmas-tree; again she saw the charming 
child encircled by her arm standing before the handsome man 
— she had knelt by the boy^s side, and placed his little hands 
together, in the attitude of prayer — from the branches of the 
tree shone light upon light, their radiance reflected back from 
the eyes of the true-hearted child. She had thought he could 
not help being proud of his son. ^ Pray now, my love!""" 
and the clear, childish voice had spoken with such touching 
earnestness the following lines: 

Oh, men! rejoice ye in the hour 
That girds with peace this earth.” 

The young man was not thinking of that evening; it had 
vanished from his recollection, but he saw himself standing 
beside two little girls down in Aunt Marian's room. The two 
sat on a cricket at the old woman^s feet, their rosy mouths 
wide open and their eyes fixed in the distance. They were 
singing, not artistically, it is true, but with heart and soul, asp 
inspired by the advent of Christmas-tide: S 

‘‘ Around that wretched manger see! 

A radiant light now gleams, t 

Cradled in straw that babe.” 

But Norman is not singing, auntie,'’^ suddenly exclaimed 
the larger girl, breaking oS in the middle of the verse and 
looking up questioningly. 

“ Then heTl have no good gingerbread when Santa Claus 
comes, was her answer. 

Then the little thing had tripped up to him: ‘‘Norman, 
sing with us,^^ she had begged with tears in her blue eyes, and 
when he had defiantly shaken his dark locks she had been in- 
consolable and covered her face with her hands. And then 
Santa Claus had stepped in, dressed in rough, shaggy furs, 
rattling walnuts in his sack, and holding a rod threateningly 
under his arm. 

“ Are the children good. Aunt Marian? Can they pray?^^ 
he had asked in a hollow voice. 

“ Yes, the girls do very well, but there is a hard-headed boy 


Avho Wlii noi «iii^ iniS , • . . 

you, Sauta Claus, and shut ■ 

And then the little girl h:««i •; v og 

her timidity ran up to' the c . ^ - 

No, no, dear Santa CL: laivo Aorman off! He 

is not bad, I do not want any gingerbread/^ Whereupon 
Nelly had joined in her weeping, and finally Santa Claus had 
been obliged to go away without hearing any prayer, and be- 
hind him sounded Marianas words of comfort and the children's 
crying. But he, the rascal, had not cried : he had laughed as 
the tip end of the fur mantle disappeared and stoutly main- 
tained that this was no Santa Claus, but Peter the coachman 
in Uncle Miller^s coat turned inside out. 

Norman^s thoughts reverted to all those events so dear to 
his childish heart,, and involuntarily the question forced itself 
upon his lips: Does she know yet?'’^ Then he was silent as 
though frightened at his own words, so startling did they 
sound in the silence of that great chamber. Ah! but those 
childish dreams were a thing of the far past — he had become a 
man since. A man? No, a vain dreamer, whose hand v\^as 
paralyzed by a little bit of misfortune There that old lady 
upstairs was sitting even now, writing, in his stead, a letter 
that was probably the hardest thing she had ever had to do in 
her whole life — because he was no man. 

must go home, said Lieschen, taking her fur jacket 
from the chair. ^ 

‘"Oh! can you not stay and spend the evening?^'’ asked 
Nelly. 

Thank you. I am sorry, but indeed I can not,^" replied 
she, hesitatingly. ‘^The pastures children are coming to 
spend Christmas with us, you know, Nelly, and I can not well 
be missed. 


Ah, that is so; but come again soon!^^ 

Certainly. 

“ May I attend you?"^ all at once sounded in her ear, spoken 
by Norman^s voice. 

Oh, no, I thank you,^'’ stammered she in confusion. “ I — 
To-day is a holiday —you might meet drunken men,'’^ said 
he, cutting short her answer and taking up cap and sword. 

That was a wonderful winter evening which now closed in 
that blessed day: not a breeze stirred, the outside world was 
still and silent, wrapped in its glistening mantle of spotless 
white, overhead arched a sky from which sparkled down 
millions of stars through the clear cold air. In the little vil- 
lage below lights from many windows shone forth from under-* 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


nQw-cov:ored roofs of the houses^ and up here at the 
^ e the paths, by the snow-coVered sandstone bench, 

: : - naadsome couple. As though in amazement the old 
linden-trees stretched out their bare arms over their young 
heads as though they would conceal the two, so that no eye 
should behold them. Is this then a time for love? every cool 
little twig seemed to ask, now when there^s not a single night- 
ingale here to sing, nor a green leaf to whisper a love-greet- 
ing? ^ And yet the maiden^’s head lies so still upon his breast, 
and in her blue eyes is shining a whole heaven of love and 
happiness. 

‘‘ J am to help you, so that life be no longer so gloomy for 
you, Norman? Is it really true?^’ 

If you will, Lieschen!^^ replied he, softly kissing her upon 
her brow. 

If I will?^^ asked she with glowing ardor, nestling closer 
up to him. If I will be happy 

How had it come about? What were her feelings now as 
she went alone across the mill bridge? His earnest words 
seemed continually to echo in her ear, and she felt his kiss 
burn like fire upon her brow, andr-yet was it reality, actual 
reality that made her heart beat so high? And to-morrow — 
her throbbing heart stood suddenly still, as she saw the lighted 
windows of her own house — then he would speak to her father. 
She was betrothed — betrothed to him ! 

She stood still and looked back; he must be about this time 
passing that solitary old linden-tree that had witnessed un- 
speakable joy this evening in spite of snow and ice. He loved 
her, really loved her! She shook her head over this marvel, 
this never-looked-for marvel — and her parents and auntie, 
must they not see at the first glance that she — No, no, not yet, 
not until the pastor’s family were gone, then she would tell 
her father that to-morrow somebody would come who — 

And now she was at the front door. The old bell rang so 
abominably loud this evening, just because she wanted to slip 
by to her own room undisturbed. No, it would not do, for 
just then Aunt Marian lifted up the curtain of the sitting-room 
window and immediately afterward the latter was opened. 

Eh, you gad-about!” sounded her old voice in kindly 
tones, ‘‘ 1 was upon the point of sending Dorothy after you, 
fearing something had befallen you by the way-side.” 

Good-evening,” replied she; but voice was almost denied 
her through the violence of her heart’s beating; is it really 
so late then?” 

‘‘ Why, I should think so,” said the old woman, closing the 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE, 

door behind her. There sat her father at the \ 

while her mother and TJ'iiolcJ Pastor wdre on the SUJ-O;. 

Well, the^io you are!" ^ was her father "s kindly greeting, 
drawing the slender figure to him. What do you think 
now, Lieschen. The pastor"s children have the scarlet fever 
and can not come to get their presents. Is it not sad?"" 

“ Very sad!"" repeated she, but her eyes beamed with such 
luster and so bright a smile played around her lips that they 
did not seem at all in harmony with her words. At any other 
time she would have broken forth into loud lamentations, but 
this evening she could hardly take in the significance of the 
intelligence just imparted to her. 

Only one minute — I must run up and lay off my things. 
I"ll be back directly,"" and she was gone. 

What is the matter with the child,"" asked Mrs. Irving, 
anxiously. But already the child "" stood panting in her 
own little room. The fur jacket and cap were slung on the 
nearest chair and then she fell upon her knees by the bedside, 
as she was accustomed to do every evening when she said her 
prayers — she pressed her glowing cheeks against the pillow and 
folded her hands, but not a word crossed her lips, only her 
heart poured forth a confused prayer of thanksgiving while it 
was' rent by a nameless foreboding and infinite sense of bliss. 
Finally she sprung up and opened the window. ^^Up there! 
up there!"" she whispered, waving, her hand as though he 
could see it. She wondered if he swas now thinking of her 
— if he had confessed to his mother that he had put his arm 
around the little childish Lieschen from the mill and kissed 
her? And Nelly? 

‘‘Lieschen! Lieschen!"" they called from below. 

“ Coming!"" she answered — there was a joyous ring in the 
sound of her voice. She took the candle and stood before the 
mirror — dark and glowing were the eyes that met hers in the 
glass. “His betrothed,"" she whispej’ed, “his betrothed!"" 
’ and a deep flush suffused her face. She quickly extinguished 
the candle and went down. 

“They are already in the dining-room. Miss Lieschen,"" 
Dorothy informed her, and then suddenly gave a loud shriek. 
“ Oh, mercy on us! Meroy ! miss, there is a bride* hidden in 
the house; just see, one, two, three flames!"" 

The young girl, who already had the knob of the sitting- 
room door in her hand, turned around and fairly blushed — 

* In Germany a young woman is called a bride from the time of her 
engagement until her marriage— not subsequently, as with us. 


the flickering wax 



just 

ofor<? 

upon 


that good old face. 

“A likely tale that!^^ said she with a little vexation in her 
tone. Girl/ you are clea.n daft — only to hear her rejoicing, 
so that I may at least suppose that she has won the great lot- 
tery prize. A hidden bride forsooth — fiddlesticks — she is the 
one to know best who it is! I know a pair of lovers that meet 
every evening at the garden gate in spite of the deepest snow. 
Go in, child! Ifli follow, said she, turning to Lieschen, who 
hesitatingly opened the dining-room door and entered, accom- 
panied by the old lady. 

They were already seated^ viz., her father, mother and the 
pastor; the latter now said grace and then Dorothy appeared 
with the smoking roast goose, which the master of the house 
now set about carving. 

And, do you know, pastor, said he, in continuation of 
an interrupted conversation, sharpening his knife against the 
polished steel, it would be a real blessing if the story could 
be acted out in real life, but I can not believe in it. The same 
thing has beenf^alked about these ten years past.^^ 

Well, I can tell you nothing more, Frederick, than what 

I lately heard in B from the architect Leonhardt; he said 

that in the spring a commission would come to purchase the 
different tracts of land, and as soon as this happens the build- 
ing goes forward. So far as I am concerned, railroad or nofc, 
it matters little. I would only — he drew his hand across 
his brow. 

Arje you very anxious about the sickness of your children, 
Mr. Pastor asked Mrs. Irving sympathetically after a pause. 

“ Well, yes, ITl honestly confess it,^^ replied he, looking 
really trouWed. True, we are all in God's hands, but the 
human heart is easily dispirited. That insidious disease has 
proved peculiarly dangerous this last year. Some little one 
lies sick in almost every house in the village. Prom many a 
family have I conducted one or two to the grave, and with all 
deference to the will of God, Minnie, anxiety can not alw^ays 
be dismissed.'^ 

“ For God^s sake, uncle, you do not say it is so bad as 
that?" said Lieschen staring at him with wide-open eyes. It 
suddenly struck her that she had been very heartless not to 
have perceived his anguish in spite of her own ecstasy. Can 
1 go home with you and help to nurse them?" 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


129 


‘^Take care, Lieschen, it is a dreadful disease easily com- 
municated — not for the world said the minister, kindly, 
pressing her little hand. No, no, my Eosina can get along 
alone — one ought not lightly to expose one^s self to danger. 
You are an only child, you must take care of yourself for your 
parents^ sake. No, T thank you, Lieschen; we can get along 
so. But indeed I must leave directly after dinner; Eosina 
urged me so with all her might. 

“Your health, pastor,’^ said the master of the house, cor- 
dially lifting up his glass; “may things soon be better at 
home and all anxiety prove to have been useless! but enough 
of this now,^^ said he, recovering himself, “ I would not dis- 
turb your spirits, Lieschen, so cheer up! and give me a right 
hearty laugh. You looked so radiant just now. What sort of 
a time had you with Nelly? Your face awhile ago was the 
very picture of merrimejit and joy.^^ 

Lieschen blushed crimson. 

“ Why, I should not think that things would look so very 
lively up there, suggested Mrs. Irving. 

“ Ah! yes, they have their bitter sorrows too, that is true,^^ 
sighed the pastor. “ Little children, little cares; big children, 
big cares! It is so all over the world. 

“ Dear me,^^ said the old lady, “ trust in God has always 
such a small share in the matter. As for that youth Norman, 
I do not feel so greatly concerned for him; his is warm young 
blood, not likely to be frozen by a bit of false love. Besides, 
he has a proud spirit, and disappointment is only an incentive 
to new love — he^ll soon have another sweetheart. 

“ Well, that were a mere secondary consideration, Marian; 
but those other disagreeable complications and — 

Clap! the door had gone to and the maiden had vanished, 
while the party left behind looked at one another in silent as- 
tonishment. 


CHAPTEE XIV. 

The worthy minister had gone his way home, without hav- 
ing seen his young friend again. A call for her had been un- 
answered. Aunt Marian sought her Lieschen everywhere. 
She was not in the sitting-room, nor Christmas-tree room, so 
she cautiously opened the young lady^s own little sanctum. 
It was almost dark inside, but there at the window stood a mo- 
tionless figure gazing out upon the starlit beauty of that win- 
ter's night. 

“ Lieschen !^^ called the old lady, softly. 


130 


A TALE OF AJT OLD CASTLE. 


Auntie/^ came trembling back. 

Say, child, whafc is the matter? Have you not a headache 
or other sickness?^^ 

But instead of any answer those soft arms embraced her; a 
glowing face was hidden on her neck, and the form that nestled 
up to her side shook with restrained sobs. 

Child! Lieschen! what is this?'^ asked the old lady, 
alarmed; has anybody troubled you 

She shook her head. 

What is it, then, my darling?^ ^ and she drew the agitated 
girl to the sofa, caressing her, and holding her in her embrace. 

“ Ah! auntie, dearest, darling auntie — 

What troubles you, sweetest? Why, I do believe you are 
laughing too! You silly thing, what does all this mean?'^ 

“ Ah! I could laugh and cry and — I do not know what all,^^ 
whispered she. “ Close your eyes. Aunt Marian! I want to 
tell you why — ah! I am so afraid to tell you — 

“ Afraid to tell That is a pretty thing to say, indeed 

it looks as if — Well, quick! quick! What has happened to 
you?^^ 

“ I — — have engaged myself. Aunt Marian,^^ said she, chok- 
ing. “ Could you not guess as much?^^ 

“ Engaged yourself, child?"^ 

1 am so happy, so happy — Norman — 

Norrnaii?^^ faltered the old lady, and her teeth chattered 
from fright. ‘‘ Norman engaged to you she repeated, 
feebly. “ So, so!’^ 

“ Aunt Marian, have you not a friendly word? We love 
each other so, so dearly !^^ 

‘‘ Love? He love you 

Oh, auntie, how can you ask? If he did not would he 
want me for a wife?'’^ 

"^Merciful heavensj^^ shrieked the old woman in genuine 
agony of soul. Poor silly child! She believes herself be- 
loved, and he only wants her money to save himself from 
ruin. And in dumb anguish she groped with her cold hand 
after her darling, and it seemed to her as though a sweet voice, 
long since hushed, was once more whispering in her ear — was 
she not now listening to the same delightful silly nonsense as 
of old, when Lisette had confided to her the story of her young 
love. 

“ But, consider, auntie, I can make life bright to him again 
— for my sake he will learn to prize it again — only think how 
delightful it is! I am to do this; can it really be true? Oh! 
auntie, he asked me under the old snowy linden, where I met 


A TALE OF A:^ OLD CASTLE. 131 

him once three years ago. And now” — you will tell father and 
mother, will you not? I should die of shame if I were to con- 
fess that I loved a strange man; I cannot; do it forme please! 
I could never have told you if it had not been dark. But 
speak, auntie, give me just one kiss~^^ 

Lisette — Lisette! Was it not she who had inwardly whis- 
pered? 

‘‘Oh! Most merciful Father, inwardly groaned the poor 
old woman, “is this the happiness that 1 have been praying 
for in this child^s behalf every morning and every evening? 
Does she not deserve a thousand-fold better fate than this?^^ 
And then for some seconds she sat still as if stupefied. 

“ Lieschen,^' said she, finally, with suppressed feeling, “ you 
do not know what you have done, you do not know what lies 
before you, if this unhappy — do not be angry with me, but I 
must speak so — this unhappy betrothal is effected. You do not 
know the old baroness as 1 know her; she is worse than any 
fiend. She will make you wretched like my poor Lisette, for 
whose misery she i'S responsible. Nor would my conscience be 
clear if such a misfortune should occur and I had not warned 
you now, while there is yet time, and nobody knows of your 
love save our two selves. Be still !^^ she urged when Lieschen 
tried to interrupt her, “ indulge your old auntie^s humor, who 
means it for your good! What I have to tell you is bitter to 
the taste, but physic that I trust may be effectual for your 
cure. It is the story of Lisette that 1 must tell you. Well, 
you know I wanted to tell it to you in the spring, because I 
saw your love coming, but it did not cross my lips then — oh! 
that it had!^^ 

Speechless, the young girl cowered at her feet; not a sound 
from her lips betrayed the sudden chill that had struck at the 
heart of her newly blossomed joy, as when a blighting frost 
falls upon the breast of laughing spring. 

“ Baron Fritz, then,^^ began the old woman with hollow 
voice, “ the brother of Nellyas and Norman’s grandfather, was 
engaged to Lisette; they had secretly plighted their troth. 
Nobody knew it besides myself. So soon as he should be of 
age, Baron Fritz meant to bring his suit before Lisette’s par- 
ents and speak to his brother on the subject; and then they 
were to buy an estate. They were a happy couple, Lieschen, 
and a handsome one, and they loved each other so dearly that 
it was a pleasure to see them together down there in the bower 
by the water’s edge. Baron Fritz, as officer in the Hussars, 
was stationed at a town not far from here. Often he came 
home, and when the time came around for his visits Lisette 


132 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


would stand at the window of her own little room and watch 
for a light in the castle tower, which was the signal that he 
wac coming to see her. Then she would shout for joy and clap 
her hands and run a little way into the woods to meet him. 

“ And then — on a summer evening — his brother's beautiful 
young bride made her appearance in the old castle. Lisette 
and I had run out to get a peep at her; the whole castle was 
illuminated the servants waited with flambeaux on each 
side of the grand staircase of approach; Baron Fritz stood 
there too with his old mother, and then the young couple came 
driving up. What we had heard was true: the young lady 
was undeniably beautiful, but pride was written on her every 
lineament, in bier every movement, and pride it was that flashed 
from her large dark eyes. Lisette had turned quite pale as her 
glance followed her. 

‘‘ ‘ There goes no friend of mine, Marian,' she said to me. 

“ And she was right. God knows where the proud young 
lady learned that Baron Fritz loved Lisette, and who inspired 
her with the wicked purpose of parting them. I only know 
this one thing, that she succeeded in it. And how — yes, how 
did she succeed? It was in the fall of the year, and the castle 
was crowded with guests assembled for the hunting season. 
The whoops and halloos in the forest could be plainly heard, 
and every evening the castle windows were brilliantly lighted 
up. That mad life had begun up there which its mistress so 
dearly loved, and with which she almost brought her family to 
beggary. But Baron Fritz bade Lisette farewell; his absence 
was to be longer than usual, and she gave him for a keepsake 
a little gold heart that she always wore around her neck; I can 
still hear how she said: ‘ There, mine own, keep this locket 
with my hair in it, and think of me!' Look, Lieschen, that 
gold heart was the death of my darling. But hear the rest. 
Baron Fritz departed, and fourteen days passed away with 
nothing to note; the lovers could not write for fear of betray- 
ing their secret. Besides, people were not so clever at writing 
in those days as now, but they thought so much the more of 
one another, which is also the reverse of what it is many a 
time nowadays. As 1 was saying, Fritz was gone and Lisette 
from force of habit stood every evening at her window looking 
across at the little tower-room which Fritz always occupied 
when, at home. But it was invariably dark, as well it might 
be, since he was to be four weeks away, and only fourteen days 
of his absence w^ere gone by. One evening, though, wdien I 
took my knitting to go and chat a bit with Lisette, she cabae 
running to meet me all in a glow. 


A TALE OF AN OLE CASTLE. 


133 


“ ^ Oh, Marian!^ she called out, ‘ he is here; there is'a light 
in the tower ^ — and to be sure there was a light glimmering in 
the bow- window. She did not even stop to throw a shawl 
around her, but flew out of the house. After awhile she re- 
turned. ‘ He did not come,^ she said; ‘ what does it signify?^ 
I shook my head. ‘Just wait a bit, Lisette dear! 1^11 ask 
Christian to-morrow.^ But neither did Christian come, and 
about noon a young fellow brings me a message that I need 
not expect him, for his master had sent him away to fetch a 
new horse for the baroness. 

“ Lisette was in a state of unrest that is hard to describe. 
As soon as twilight fell she went to the window, whence again 
the same light was visible. Once more she ran into the open 
air, and came back pale, throwing herself weeping on the sofa. 
God knows, it seems as if she must have had a foreboding of 
what was to come, for she would not be comforted. ‘ He is 
here and does not come,^ she sobbed. ‘ Ah! I shall die if it 
is so!^ 

“ On the third evening it was the same story. Lisette looked 
as white as the chalk on a wall. Then it was dark again in 
the little tower-room. 

“ About four days afterward we were sitting, Lisette and 
I, in the sunshine before the house- door, picking up the 
feathers from some field -fares, and her looks followed the fly- 
ing feathers, while one sad sigh after another crossed her lips. 
All at once we saw a girl coming across the mill bridge. At 
first we could nod make her out, for her new red frock with 
black stripes fairly blinded our eyes, but then Lisette said: 
‘ That is Wild Bess; what can she want here?^ In truth, it 
v/as she, coming directly toward us, too, with pretty little 
dancing feet done up in white stockings and tight boots. 
She had on a black jacket, and her equally black plaits 
hung down her back. With sparkling eyes she looked at 
Lisette as though her visit were one of mere friendliness. 
Now you must know, Lieschen, that Wild Bess had gone with 
us to confirmation, and a wilder child seldom submitted to the 
rite. Gypsies had once left her lying behind the (jhurch-yard 
hedge, when she was hardly eight days old, and she had grown 
up in the poor-house. An idle, giddy creature, she was from 
the first the torment of the whole community, but she took 
the fancy of the baroness one day when she went to the castle 
with a basket of berries. She reminded her of her home, she 
had said, and so Bess had passed into that lady^s service, and 
went about tricked out as gayly as though she were on a per- 
petual masquerade. 


134 A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 

Blit we soon learned that she was the same Wild Bess as 
ever — many strange gentlemen visited at the castle, and Bess 
was pretty, too pretty; easily could she have found some honest 
young fellow who would have been glad to make her his wife, 
but she was wanton as the worst, and — God be praised! — we 
still had honesty and virtue at home. 

‘‘ Thus, then, she came along; in her little ears hung great, 
glittering gold hoops, and she had a ring, too, on her hand, 
with which she right affectedly stroked down her snow-white 
apron. 

“ ‘ Good-day!^ she called out to us, and Lisette said again: 

‘ Good-day!^ and asked, ‘ What do you want, Bess?^ 

‘ Why, bless me, I just saw mam^selle sitting over here, 
and thought I would come over and see how she did. You 
need not be ashamed of me; were we not confirmed together? 
or have you grown proud 

“ ‘ No,^ replied Lisette, ^ I am not proud, but your coming 
here means something — tell me quickly w hat you would have?^ 

“ ‘ Nothing at all. My goodness,^ answered she, doing as 
though she felt aggrieved, ‘ you need not be ashamed of me; 
I beg no more; have bread enough and to spare. ^ So saying, 
she laughed until all her white teeth showed, and whirled her- 
self round on tiptoe, until her red dress and long plaits stood 
out almost straight. ‘ You look so pale,^ she then said, sud- 
denly, fixing her gaze upon Lisette; ‘ any love-sickness, eh?^ 

“ Lisette blushed all over. ‘ What is it to you how I look?^ 
answered she, curtly, getting up so briskly that the feathers in 
her lap flew far and near. Suddenly I saw her eyes almost 
start from her head and her hand pressed to her heart, while, 
pale as death, she sunk upon the bench, and my looks follow- 
ing hers, they fell upon a little gold heart that stuck out of 
Bess’s neckerchief. 

‘ Good heavens!’ shrieked Lisette. With one bound she 
had reached the spot where stood Bess, grasped her by the 
shoulder, and asked in a voice that pierced to my bones and 
marrow, so full was it of keenest anguish, ‘ Where did you 
get that heart from, Bess?’ ” 

Lieschen hung in breathless suspense upon the words of the 
narrator. For an instant there w^as perfect quiet; after a short 
pause old Marian resumed: “Then you should have heard 
with what heart-rending accents Lisette repeated: ‘ Where did 
you get that heart from, Bess?’ She seemed to want to read 
the words from Bess’s lips. The latter had tossed back her 
head and looked across at her with sparkling eyes — there she 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 135 

stood with folded arms, and by and by a mocking smile curled 
her lip. 

“ ‘ What is that to yoti?^ she asked, trying to break away. 

‘ What is to me? Blessed Jesus, she asks what it is to me! 
Help me, Marian; I must have it agaiii,^ cried Lisette; ‘ it is 
mine— DO, his; alas! I gave it to him.^ 

“ I drew nearer, quite rigid from fright. ‘ Give the thing 
here, Bess,^ said L ‘ You found it, you know you did!’ 

“‘What do you mean?’ she cried, shaking off Lisette’s 
hand that lay iieavy upon her shoulder. ‘ I am surprised that 
you did not say I had stolen it. It is my property; I shall 
only let it be taken from me by him who gave it to me. I 
should think you had learned before this time that 1 could 
scratch.’ She stepped back and doubled up her fists; then 
quickly turned to go. 

“ ‘ Stop!’ called Lisette, again seizing her by the arm; ‘I 
ask you in our Lord’s name: Who gave you that heart?’ She 
drew herself up erect in front of the girl, and as if in appeal 
held up her hand — a shudder passed over her frame. That 
moment I shall never forget, Liescheu. I started toward her 
to give her support, but I had to stop and gaze upon her, so 
beautiful she looked; through the bare branches of the linden- 
tree fell a ray of autumn sunshine that played upon her brown 
hair, so that it actually looked like a halo, and like a saint she 
stood there— like an angel in presence of a lost spirit. 

“Bess had turned right pale when she met Lisette’s eye, 
but then tore herself loose and said: ‘ Why would you know 
that? Did I ever ask you who gave you that little gold ring, 
which I saw you kiss so fervently in the arbor lately? Yes, 
yes; I saw it well enough, and can not 1 too have a lover of 
my own? Think you, because you are the rich miller’s pretty 
Lisette, that W^ild Bess can please nobody? Farewell, Lisette, 
and do not look so amazed! Not a word more do I say,’ and 
she laughed scornfully and ran across the mill bridge, her red 
dress flashing before our eyes in the sunshine. 

“ But Lisette stood cold and stiff looking after her, and 
when I went up to offer her consolation, she thrust me back 
impulsivel}^, and went up to her room. 1 did not know what 
I ought to do, child, whether 1 should follow her or not; my 
heart beat till it was ready to burst, and while I yet stood there 
Lisette’s mother came to give me an order, and scolded be- 
cause the feathers lay scattered over the place. I attended to 
her directions, but the tears would keep coming into my eyes, 
as 1 thought of poor Lisette’s heavy sorrow. Oh! who would 
ever have thought it? Could it really be true that he had 


136 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


wronged Tais betrothed for the sake of that worthless girl? 
But where could she have gotten it? And then that light in 
the little tower chamber three evenings in succession! Oh, 
adorable Saviour! what is to be the end of it? And Just as 
soon as I could I ran up to Lisette; there she stood at the 
window, looking over toward the castle, and when I went up 
to her and wanted to throw my arm around her, she said, quite 
softly: 

“ ‘ Let me alone, Marian! With what would you comfort 
me? Only go down, only go! I would rather be alone!^ 

‘‘ I shook my head and went; I could hardly speak for cry- 
ing, but just as I was about to close the door behind me, she 
uttered a shriek, so piercing and so heart-rending that I ran 
back to her, and found her Slaking as though in a convulsion; 
then she sunk to the floor. I tried to lift her up, but she lay 
as heavy as a dead body in my arms — then her mother came 
up the steps, and — 

Ah! child, how attempt to paint that scene to you! To 
me even it seems like a confused and hideous dream. Lisette 
fell desperately ill; the doctor gave us no hope of her life; I 
sat day and night there by her bed, listening to her fevered 
ravings; then again she would fancy herself near her beloved, 
and talk so sweetly that my heart almost stood still for pain 
and woe. The mother learned first of her child^s joy and grief 
through her wild talk in delirium — I had to tell her every- 
thing. She cast a long look of grief upon the lovely creature 
who had been so cruelly hurled down from the summit of bliss, 
but her father was furiously angry and cursed the faithless 
lover; only Lisette^s brother said: 

“ ‘ There is some deviltry behind all this; I know Fritz; 
there is not a grain of falsehood in his composition.^ 

Alas, child! the weeping and praying that did go on ih 
that little room! How we wrung our hands, wrestling with the 
Lord in agony of spirit for that precious young life, but God^s 
decrees are not to be averted by human means, and on the 
ninth day, just as the golden glory of sunset was fading away, 
its light fell upon a pale face, and the blue eyes were closed 
forever. How peaceful she lay there! how composed! how far 
removed from earthly grief! But I threw myself down upon 
her and shrieked aloud from excess of pain and woe.^^ 

The old woman stopped and wiped her eyes. Lieschen had 
hidden her face in Aunt Marianas bosom, and it seemed as 
though she were quietly sobbing. 

Marian at last went on: “The same evening that Lisette 
died I ran out into the garden, just as the bells down in the 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


137 


village began to toll for her, for 1 was too wretched to stay in 
one place, and as I stood there a light suddenly flashed up in 
the tower. I was horrified, and my tears broke forth anew, 
for she who now lay there so still could see it no more — and 
so I leaned against the house-wall and wept as though my heart 
would break. From the sitting-room inside came the sound 
of the miller ^s tread, as he restlessly paced the floor — and then 
the mother’s piteous sobs and her son’s comforting voice; else 
all was quiet, still as death. The ringing, too, had now ceased; 
the mill-wheels had stood still that whole day, and men and 
maids had been tripping about the house as lightly as possible, 
speaking to one another only in whispers, as though fearing to 
disturb our Lisette’s slumbers. 

And then all of a sudden I heard some one coming from 
over there; such a firm, brisk step. Ah! it is my Christian, 
I thought, but at the very same instant the step was already 
upon tlie mill bridge, and a bold voice began to trill a song 
aloud, and so contentedly, it cut me to the heart. Good God! 
it was Baron Fritz’s voice. And before I was aware of it — for 
1 was as if paralyzed by horror — he was in the house, and when 
1 got there he had already opened the door and stood facing 
the miller, his happy face and bright eyes searching every 
corner for Lisette. 

“ The mother sunk back upon a chair, with a shriek, when 
she caught sight of him, but the miller rushed upon him with 
this cry: 

^ Cursed fellow! would you come to mock me in my grief?’ 
and he dragged him into the roomt 

The miller was an impetuous man, but Lisette’s brother 
sprung between the two and called out: ^ Question him, and 
find out if he be guilty first, father!’ 

‘‘The old man, however, planted himself before him and 
yelled out: ‘ Lisette? You may well seek for Lisette, baron! 
She lies up there; go up and look at her!’ Then he clapped 
his hands before his face in wildly passionate despair. 

“‘Come, Fritz!’ said our young master, drawing the 
stricken man into an adjoining chamber. ‘ Come here, and 
I’ll tell you the whole story of our terrible calamity.’ And 
then the door closed behind them, and I was left alone with 
the weeping parents. 

“ From the next room not a sound reached us save one sin- 
gle heavy groan — that was all; and so the minutes passed in 
endless pain. I sat at the window looking out into the night, 
but suddenly started back, for a face outside was pressed 
against the glass, and a pair of great dark eyes looked into the 


138 


A TALE OF AiT OLD CASTLE. 


room, flaming with agony and horror, and then a hand beck- 
oned to me, and the face had vanished. 1 had recognized it; 
it was Wild Bess. 

^ God save us!^ thought I, ‘ what does she want here 
again?’ But 1 went out quietly, and there she stood clutching 
with both hands at the posts of the house door, and the faint 
light from the room showed a face almost distorted by grief. 
Her long black locks fell disheveled around her shoulders, still 
increasing the horror of the apparition. She trembled so that 
she could hardly hold herself upright, and when 1 looked at 
her in questioning surprise, her pale lips moved without bring- 
ing forth a word. 

‘ Lisette,’ she then asked, in a hollow whisper, ‘ is it true 
what people say — did the bell toll just now for Lisette?’ 

‘ She lies upstairs in her last sleep,’ answered I. 

‘‘‘Holy God!’ shrieked the girl, ‘is it true, is it really 
true?’ 

“ At that moment Baron Fritz came out of the side door, 
and behind him my young master, with a candle in his hand. 
He was pale as a corpse, and his eyes fairly glowed in his head; 
evidently he was about to repair to the chamber of death. 
Then his eyes fell upon the figure of Bess, now prostrate on 
the earth, and recognizing her he stood still. 

“ ‘ Was I supposed to have given my Lisette’s love-token to 
that thing?’ said he, with uncanny composure, while his eyes 
were fastened upon her with a contemptuous expression. 
“ Frederick, do you believe this? Speak, you creature,’ he 
then called out, with trembling voice. ‘ You stole that gold 
heart, which I only missed just before I set out!’ 

“ The girl uplifted her arms toward him. ‘ No, oh, no, Sir 
Baron — ’ 

“ ‘ Will you confess, you trifling jade?’ cried he, lifting up 
the riding- whip that he held in his hand as though to strike. 

“ ‘ Strike on, sir!’ cried she. ‘ I have deserved it, but I 
did not steal it. Before God, 1 did not! They gave it to me, 
so truly as I lie hene; 1 would never have put it on for a jest 
had I known how it would have turned out.’ 

“ Baron Fritz let his uplifted arm drop. ‘ Out with you!’ 
he cried, pointing her to the door. ‘ At least, you are not to 
disturb their rest here in this house of mourning. I’ll settle 
with you another time.’ 

“ She gathered herself up. ‘ Have mercy, sir!’ she cried, 
* forgive me; I am a vain, silly thing, but not wicked. Oh, 
Sir Baron, I would gladly die, if I could bring Lisette back 
to life. ’ 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


139 


She looked so crushed, so truly to he pifcied as she stood 
there before him with folded hands, with her dark, tearful 
eyes, that our young master begged of Baron Prit;5 to ask who 
bade her hang the little heart around her neck. ‘ Perhaps,^ 
said he, ‘ she will tell.^ 

“ ‘ Who bade you hang the gold heart around your neck?^ 
mechanically repeated the baron, and in his eyes suddenly 
flashed a suspicion, as it were, of foul play. 

“ ‘ Tell us, Bess,^ gently entreated our young gentleman; 
‘ tell, if we are to believe that you really meant no harm, 
whom you — ^ 

“ ‘ No, indeed!^ shrieked she; ^ I did not mean any harm. 
I only w\Tmted to tease Lisette, because she always stood so 
high above me, and I had no other way to be even with her, 
and therefore I was provoked when she told me 1 was to — 
No, 1 do not betray. Oh, Lord! I dare not betray anything.-^ 

“ Her whole body trembled. 

‘‘ ‘ Go!^ said Baron Fritz, suddenly. ‘I do not want to 
know now; a trick has been played, a devilish trick. ^ 

“ He waved her off with his arm, and the girl ran sobbing 
out into the dark night; I stepped to the door and looked out 
after her. I just caught a glimpse of her figure fleeing across 
the mill bridge; then she vanished into the gloom. The 
weather had changed suddenly for the worse out-of-doors, and 
the wind was sighing and sobbing in an awful manner, chang- 
ing ever and anon into a shrill whistling and howling. Clouds 
covered the sky; not a single little star peeped out, and the 
boughs of the old lindens groaned and creaked beneath the 
fierce assaults of the wind— all thrilled me with awe, and yet I 
remained where I was. When such a sudden storm as this 
rages, our country-folk say that some poor desperate child of 
man has taken his own life, and they use a little formula-of 
prayer for the poor soul, although they can not know directly 
who it is, and so I too folded my hands and was about to say this 
prayer, when, like a dagger, the thought struck to my heart — 
What if it should be Bess? The first ♦second my impulse 
was to rush out after her; then I stopped short — where should 
I go to look for her? 

In the chamber inside the miller’s restless pacing had begun 
again, and once more the mother’s sobs became audible, 
mingled with her son’s efforts to console her; but where was 
Baron Fritz? Still in the chamber of death? The village 
clock struck ten; then I heard a step come down-stairs as 
slowly and heavily as that of an old man. I looked into the 
hall; there he stood on the stairs-lauding, looking as pale as a 


140 


A TALE OE AK OLD CASTLE. 


corpse, hardly recognizable for the handsome, jovial fellow of ■ 
a few days ago. Once more he gave a look upward, and then ' 
moved slowly to the sitting-room door; no sooner, however, 
had he gained it than he shuddered, turned abruptly around, 
and passed me by unobserved, going out into the dark night, j 
a poor, heart-broken man. It was the last time that I ever j 
saw him. He is said to have led a wild and desperate life; ^ 
but oh! who can tell the bitterness of heart that drove him to 
such a course? He was never again at Derenberg, and now he : 
has been dead for many years. God grant him sweet repose! 
But Wild Bess had vanished too; nobody knew whither. And 
everywhere in castle and village was it whispered that the 
young baron had gone oft with her — until even I grew to doubt 
his fidelity. But after Lisette was buried, I went with my 
Christian toward evening to the church-yard, and visited her 
new-made grave. There 1 stood and wept, rearranging the 
wreaths that the people had laid there, when Christian said: 

^ Look, Marian! there lies something white like a note,’ and 
to be sure it was one, pressed down by a stone, to keep it from 
being blown away; and upon unfolding it, I found there writ- 
ten in large, awkward characters these words: ^ It is not true 
what they say; he has never looked at me; I do not know 
where he is, nor he where I am. Never will any one of you 
ever see me again; do not think ill of me! I hung the gold 
heart around my neck because my mistress bade me do it; she 
said it was only a joke with Lisette. Sanna was standing by; 
you can question her. My God, forgive me! I did not mean 
to do any harm. Bess.’ 

She had done it, then, that woman up there, in order to 
escape the necessity of having to receive the miller’s Lisette 
into her proud family, and — child ” — the old woman tenderly 
stroked the hair of the deeply affected girl who knelt at her 
side — “ you, our only one. For Heaven’s sake do not do 
this thing that will again furnish her with the opportunity of 
practicing such a fiendish trick! She will practice it — depend 
upon it; she hates us here at the mill, because her conscience 
troubles her on account of Lisette. See, my poor darling, if I 
am bitterly distressed, for your sake, too, I can only say one 
thing: bury the remembrance of this day’s act.” 

I can not, auntie,” interrupted the young girl, with un- 
mistakable firmness, although worn out with her tears. And 
suddenly she rose up with decision and stood right in front of 
the old woman. Aunt Lisette’s history is very sad. But I 
have given Norman my word that I would save him, and I 
must. And when I shall have told him Aunt Lisette’s story, 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


141 


he will take warning by it. Be compassionate, Aunt Marian, 
and do not dissuade me!^’ added she, after a short pause, in an 
outburst of passion, while again she fell on her knees beside her 
who now sat there speechless. We love each other so dear- 
ly, oh! so dearly — help us to be happy. Tell father and moth- 
er, and persuade them to give their consent; you will, dear, 
sweet auntie, will you not?"^ And the moist eyes of the tort- 
ured girl looked up at old Marian in touching entreaty, and 
the latter felt two soft hands seize hers and anxiously hold 
them fast. 

‘‘ Alas! alas!^’ very like a knell in the old woman^s heart, 

“ it has done no good at all! that is always the way with love; 
it will never learn, save through the pain of experience. And 
he does not love her; it is not true; if I only had the heart to 
tell her so! and Frederick will never consent—-’^ 

“ Will you speak to my parents, auntie?^^ came up to her in 
a whisper so plaintive, and at the same time so fond. 

“ Yes, my treasure! 1 see how it is; there is no help for it; 
but only take a good nigW/s rest! To-morrow, to-morrow — 

“No, no, right now! To-morrow he is coming himself. 
Father must reflect to-night upon what answer he is to give; 
please, please, auntie !^^ 

“ Yon are right, my child, it is better done at once,^^ as- 
sented the old woman, but her voice had a peculiarly con- 
strained sound. “ Let me get up. Ihl do your errand, but 
just you go sweetly to sleep! To-morrow morning early will 
be time enough for you to learn what they say, my darling. 

“ How could I sleep, auntie?^’ cried she, springing up and 
laying her little trembling head upon the old woman^s shoul- 
der. 

The old woman did not answer; she opened the door quickly 
and went out. Lieschen followed her into the dimly lighted 
passage and stooped over the baluster; there she went down 
the broad winding stairway, but oh! how slowly! Sometimes 
those old feet could trip down lightly enough; but to-night 
they would not stir; slowly — slowly — one step at a time — the 
stairs regularly groaned beneath that heavy tread, and the old 
woman’s hand grasped firmly the sloping baluster — now her ^ 
figure was lost to LiescheiFs view; she could still, however, * 
hear the slow, draggiiig steps move across the stone-paved 
floor, and now — now — she was at the drawing-room door; now 
she was in the presence of father and mother. Would it be 
possible to hear their talk up here? What will they s^y? 

Breathless, she stood thus bending far over the baluster; not 
a sound penetrated up to her — only every now and then she 


142 


A TALE OE AET OLD CASTLE. 


heard Dorothy^s voice humming a tune as she was washing up 
china and glass in the pantry — then it was as quiet as before. 

But now — that was her father; what if he should be angry? 
He spoke so loud, and now Aunt Marian. Lieschen’s heart 
began to beat violently, and she pressed both bands upon it. 
How if her father should have refused his consent? But that 
was impossible — clearly impossible — for Norman is the one she 
loves. There was confused talk going on down there: now 
Aunt Marian’s voice, that sounded so persuasive, and now her 
father’s, which sounded quite distinct, and penetrated to her 
ears with deafening effect. 

“ No, no, and a thousand times no, I say, and though you 
were all to plead with me on your knees, I must abide by my 
own decision.” 

One instant saw those great blue eyes staring helplessly into 
vacancy, the next she was fiyiiig down the steps and again she 
stood in the middle of the stiting-room. A glowing flush 
suffused her face, that was, h(»wever, soon superseded by an 
ashy pal low. 

“ Father!” she exclaimed in a touching tone. 

He stood still and looked at her, a small blue vein coursed 
across his broad, white brow; she well knew this to be the sign 
with him of intensest excitement, and his eyes flashed upon 
her with lightning-like stroke. But Aunt Marian had such a 
deeply troubled countenance, as she now came to meet the 
maiden: ‘‘Come, Lieschen, go upstairs.” 

“ No, Aunt Marian, leave me! I want to know what father 
says.” 

“ What father says,” now thundered in her ear; “ he sa^^s 
that you are a weak and silly thing, that has been allowed 
too much freedom, and too much of her own way — errors to 
be retrieved now, you may depend upon it!” 

“ That means 1 am not to engage myself to Norman, fa- 
ther?” 

. She stood all of a sudden close in front of him and looked at 
him fixedly. 

“ No, my child, not so, for your own good. I can not 
suffer my child to become the victim of a speculation. ” 

“ Speculation?” asked Lieschen, who had turned pale as 
death, “ I do not know what you mean by that, father! You 
probably believe that Norman, does not love me; that is possi- 
ble; but if he does not really love me as 1 do him, it is not a 
thing for me to consider? this I know, life resumes its value to 
him only when he — ” 

“ Gets his debts paid, my child.” 


A TAM OF AFT OLD CASTLE. 


143 


** Aunt Marian!^^ Liescheii now turned to the old woman in 
a state of great excitement. “Aunt Marian, do you believe 
such a thing of Norman? Oh, speak one word!^’ She made 
this appeal with such confidence that bright tears gushed from 
the old lady^s eyes. 

“Come, come, my own Lieschen,^^ she whispered, “your 
father is angry and excited; to-morrow he will be more corn- 
posed.^^ 

“ No, no, auntie; you must tell father what you think; he 
depends so much upon your judgment. 

The old lady was in a position of most painful embarrass- 
ment; tears ran down her furrowed cheeks, and her fingers 
caught at the hem of her apron in the helplessness of her con- 
fusion. 

“ You too believe this, auntie — It sounded like a cry of 
despair; but not a tear came into Lieschen^s eyes. “ Father, 
1 know that this is not so; it is impossible, yes, impossible — 

“I understand your feelings, Lieschen,^^ said he, more 
quietly; “ but how could you be so foolish as to believe in an 
affection so suddenly aroused? You have alwaj^s been a pru- 
dent, sensible girl — just consider; he has known you long, and 
yet preferred a stranger to you; he never thought of loving 
and marrying you; it was as a playmate of his childhood that 
he used to like you, nothing more, and now, now, when he 
knows no other way out of pecuniary embarrassment, he re- 
members the little girl who owns property, and sues for her 
hand to save himself from ruin, and she is so silly as to ac- 
count this love. Must I needs appeal to your maidenly pride, 
Lieschen?^^ 

She did not answer, but her eyes were fixed upon her father 
with an expression well-nigh of bewilderment. 

“ Nelly’s mother was made just such another victim, my 
child! Think you that her fate has been an enviable one? 
Must she not have been perpetually humiliated in presence 
of a husband who considered her only as the burdensome ap- 
pendage to her property?^. Because he did not love his wife he 
led a wild, dissipated life, and when her dowry had all been 
wasted he shot himself — is not that an unspeakably wretched 
lot? And, Lieschen, child, could you ask me to let you fall 
into such an abyss?” 

Lieschen’s folded hands now fell apart; she seized hold of 
the table, by which she stood; her pale lips moved slightly, as 
though she desired to speak, but not a word escaped. The 
cups on the table clattered audibly from the girl’s excessive 
trembling. 


144 


Jl tale of an old castle. 


Lieschen! For God's sake!" cried Marian, encircling her 
with her arms. 

‘‘ I thank you, father," said Lieschen, in a subdued tone, as 
she freed herself; “I — I shall obey you. " She turned and 
moved slowly to the door; all objects whirling in dizzy circles 
before her eyes; she still heard Aunt Marian's voice; then the 
door closed behind her. She tottered to the steps; she had to 
lean heavily upon the hand-railing, and at last, at last, she 
was up in her own room and sunk upon the little sofa. 

Her father came up and stroked her cheeks, calling her his 
good, reasonable child, that would some day still be very hap- 
py. Aunt Marian took her place beside her, and silently wept 
in sympathy, now and then speaking a sweet word of comfort. 
Lieschen heard all this as though out of the Jar distance, only 
this one thought echoed loud and clearly in her soul: ‘‘He 
does not love me, only my worldly goods, out of necessity." 
Was it really only a couple of hours ago since she had laid her 
head upon his breast, under the old linden-tree, and listened 
to his whispered words? Was it not already an eternity, a 
long eternity — between now and then did there not lie a whole 
sea of misery and woe? 

She groaned aloud and pressed her hands against her breast. 
Alas! how short had been her dream of bliss, her sweet taste 
of love! gone, gone forever! How the blood rushed to her 
cheeks when she thought how trustfully she had confessed to 
him how much she loved him; it was quite indifferent to him, 
could only be indifferent; he wanted none of her love; he 
wanted her money. Where could she find a hiding-place apart 
from any human being? She closed her eyes and thought: If 
he should come now and father reject his suit! His proud, 
handsome face, how would it look at that moment? “And 
then he will go," thought she. In spirit she saw him leave 
her father's room and pass through the hall with his stately 
form proudly erect; he will not turn round and look toward 
her window; he will go — go, never to be seen again. Never 
to be seen again — a hard, bitter thought, fraught with pain 
unspeakable! 

‘^Alas, auntie!" moaned she, in torture, and the old lady 
bent down to her. 

“ Weep freely, my darling; let your tears fiow. It will be 
better by and by.T • 

“Ah! if it were only past!" she whispered. 

“ The hardest tfials pass away, if we can but pray. " 

“ I can not pray, auntie, I can not." 

So the night passed away, and the morrow dawned, when he 


A TALE OF AN" OLD CASTLE. 


145 


was to speak with her father. Lieschen^s face wore an almost 
unnatural tranquillity early that morning, but her eyes glowed 
with feverish light. She performed her little household duties 
as usual, and then seated herself in her chamber, with a book 
in her hand. Aunt Marian came up and kindly began to talk 
with her on indifferent matters; she listened and made replies; 
then the old lady returned to her housekeeping. Steadily the 
hour hand moved on, and now it stood at eleven, then all at 
once a bright color rose to her cheek; she had recognized his 
step in the entrance hall, and immediately afterward her fa- 
ther’s voice. She made a movement as though she would 
hurry to the door, but then again her eyes fell upon the book; 
its leaves trembled beneath her hand; she laid her book upon 
the table, and bowed herself over it. Involuntarily she read 
under her breath: 

Once more I’d thank thee, ere we part, 

For what thou hast been to my heart! 

And mayst thou ne’er with tears deplore 
That which is gone for evermore.” 

That which is gone for evermore!” she repeated almost 
aloud. 

What blessed hours to us were given, 

Whose hearts asunder now are riven! 

Such hours, alas! no more we’ll see. 

We two no more together be.” 

‘‘ No more!” The book fell to the floor. Was^it not wrong 
of her to let him go away to lead a wandering life, without an 
attempt to detain him? She might have saved him from want 
and shame — after all, he was Norman still, her old playmate, 
and there is time still, all may yet be well! 

She ran out of the room to the head of the stairs; there 
she paused. Ah, no,” she said; she forgot, he did not love 
her; again she must call to the rescue her maidenly pride that 
had taken to flight before the intensity of her old love. How 
long he stayed with her father! Hark! there went the door; 
was it Norman? She stooped over the baluster, there he was 
just crossing the hall; she could see his dark hair from under- 
neath his cap; how straight he went away! Her heart beat 
loud and violently, like a full tide swept over her the recollec- 
tion of yesterday, with all its rush of warmth and bliss, and 
now — now he had hold of the door; if it turned on the bolt 
once more all was over for evermore — gone forever. ^‘Nor- 
man!” she cried suddenly, and flew down the steps, but the 
heavy oaken leaves were just falling to, and threateningly loud 
sounded their clangor through the lofty passages. “ Nor- 


146 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


maii!"^ she repeated once more in a low tone, stretching out 
her arms. A hot stream of tears gushed from her eyes, and 
slowly she again went up into her own little room. Gone be- 
yond recall. What a desert the world seemed, how unspeaka- 
bly dreary! 


CHAPTEE XV. 

The old baroness sat by the fireside in her own room and 
awaited her grandson’s appearance with angry impatience. 
Three times already had Sauna applied to the ladies in the 
lower apartments of the castle for information as to his where- 
abouts, and each time had she returned to her mistress with 
the message that the lieutenant had not come in from his 
walk. 

Heaven help us!” lamented the old lady, stepping up to 
the window; what is to become of him and all of us? There 
he goes on a pleasure walk in perfect tranquillity of soul, with- 
out reflecting how he can hinder the downfall of the house of 
Derenberg. Verily he has not a drop of my blood in his veins 
— or rib He 

The ample park lay spread, out before her in the cold, dumb 
pomp of winter; the snow lying upon the trees glittered in the 
noonday sun, and broad stretches of level ground were almost 
blinding in the brilliancy of their whiteness. A death-like still- 
ness and solitude prevailed. Not a living creature far or near. 
At most a couple of hungry birds hopping from bough to 
bough! And thus deserted and solitary had it been in this old 
castle for many long years. Involuntarily she shuddered. 

Why notice it peculiarly just now!” she asked herself; was 
she not used to being buried by this time? But lately her 
mind had been so often drawn to considerations of those long- 
departed days of dissipation; and now was she to drop back 
into that miserable state of existence, or a more wretched one 

yet perhaps, if the Duke of E should not gratify her wish? 

No, no, that were simply impossible. By all the saints, if he 
did not — she clinched her delicate hands. Oh! that serpent 
Bianca!” she whispered, her dark eyes flashing with sinister 
light. Nor did her features relax when at this moment the 
red curtains parted and Norman entered the chamber. 

“ And so you are already back from your pleasure walk?” 
asked she, ironically. 

I was not on a pleasure walk,” replied he, with apparent 
composure. But the old lady had discerned suppressed excite- 


A TALE OF AK OLB CASTLE. 14"^ 

inent in the vibrations of his voice and fixed a searching look 
upon him. 

“ jSTot, indeed! Where were you then? I have had you 
summoned to me three or four times. In any case an inter- 
view between us must have been of far more consequence than 
the one you have been engaged in. But it is all of a piece; 
you take after your mother, and are indolent to excess. 

“ On the contrary, grandmamma, I have just been trying to 
follow your advice in one particular; but alas! the experiment 
totally failed. He drew his handkerchief across his inflamed 
countenance and threw his cap upon the nearest table. 

How?^^ she asked, “I do not understand — advice of 
mine?’^ 

“ Certainly; I wanted to — I have' just tried to make a rich 
match, but as I said before — 

The baroness stepped backward and stared at him. 

You are astonished, grandmamma, as a matter of course; 
early this morning I was surprised that the thought had not 
occurred to yourself. Now, indeed, I suspect that notliiug 
could be further from your wishes than a marriage between 
Lieschen Irving and myself. 

‘‘ I believe you are distracted, Norman."^ 

Why so? Bless me, you counseled me to save myself 
from ruin by a rich marriage; and she is rich enough — the 
little thing. According to you that is all worth considering.^^ 

‘‘ Never will I give my consent,^^ cried the old lady, beside 
herself; “is it possible to take in such an idea? That un- 
bearable thing — your wife? It is atrocious !^^ 

“ 1 have already told you that the experiment did not suc- 
ceed. You may take that comfort, said he, throwing back 
his head and stroking down his black mustache. “ I have 
been discarded, grandmamma, decidedly discarded; but as- 
suredly I have the right to ask of you now to speak no more of 
indolence. Deeply wounded vanity betrayed itself in the 
tone of these words. 

“ Discarded?^ ^ asked she, surprised and incredulous, “dis- 
carded, you say, Norman?^^ 

“ Yes, indeed. Mr. Irving explained to me in the first place 
that his first requirement in the man upon whom he should 
bestow his daughter would be love for her— he would not have 
her esteemed a mere burdensome appendage to her money; 
that was plain talking, was it not? I could not take it 111 of 
the man, and I had never seemed to myself so devilishly small 
in my whole life as I did when I stood there before him.’^ 

Shrugging her shoulders, his grandmother turned her back 


148 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


upon him. Ideal phrases!^^ she said. ‘‘ Out of a thousand 
marriages hardly one is concluded from different motives. 1 
can only express my surprise that Mr. — Mr. Irving gave such 
an answer. Such people generally would gladly pay three 
times more of such debts as you owe for the sake of calling a 
daughter baroness — I am sure there must be some explanation 
in the background. She seated herself in her arm-chair by 
the fireside and with an effort to seem indifferent looked into 
the flames. 

‘‘ You are quite right, grandmamma; there is something 
else in the background. 1 told the father, it is true, that I 
would try, honestly try to esteem Lieschen highly, to cherish 
and keep her as well as any man could, and this was no false- 
hood, but my honest intent.-’^ 

Eeally?^^ asked she, ironically. 

He colored deeply. Eeally!^^ he repeated. ‘‘ Or, think 
you that 1 could ever allow the girl who trusted herself to me 
to feel that I was not attracted to her by love? Above all 
things, when such a pure, guileless heart as hers is in ques- 
tion!” 

Only to behold! How have you made such a profound 
study of her heart?^^ 

You forget, grandmamma, that we have grown up to- 
gether, and that of late I have had opportunities enough of 
studying her; last fall she nursed mamma for weeks. 

Perhaps you fell in love with such a sister of charity. To 
be sure the Germans never find a woman more charming than 
in a sick-room or nursery; at all events, this girl presented you 
with a piquant contrast to Bianca. 

The young man frowned darkly. “ Please, grandmamma,” 
said he, “ dismiss that subject; it is perfectly unnecessary to 
draw comparisons, but — we have quite wandered from the 
course of our conversation. You said that there was some 
reasons held in the background that stood in the way of my 
success in wooing Lieschen; well, then, this peculiar reason — 
pardon me for speaking out so bluntly — this peculiar reason 
results from experiences undergone at the mill of a similar 
affair, bitter, hard experiences that, for long years, kept that 
old house in mourning. For my part, I shall endeavor to have 
light thrown upon that affair. 

The young officer had pronounced these last words loudly 
and distinctly,, while his eyes were fixed immovably upon the 
proud face opposite. It seemed to him as though it paled 
slightly, but not a feature altered. 

“No matter what motives may have caused the-miller to 


A TALE OE AN OLD CASTLE. 


149 


reject you/^ retorted she, rudely. 1 know nothing of his 
family history, and any motive is welcome to me, for my con- 
sent never should have been given to this hair-brained proj- 
ect.^" 

Then I should have been forced to marry without it,^^ said 
he, composedly. You understand that such things are not 
matters of sport; I have given my word to the maiden, and 
she gave me her promise, and that is enough. The ease 
might have been different, if she had refused at her own in- 
stance. But I am convinced that I might have obtained her 
hand, in spite of everything, if those melancholy reminiscences 
had not supervened. Her parents will not resign their child 
to dwell in a house where dwells their ancient enemy — yourself, 
grandmamma. 

“ The baroness passionately sprung to her feet. Ri- 
diculous!^^ she then said, again dropping into her chair; 

those people have always been perfectly indifferent to me, 
until to-day — 

For awhile there was silence in the room — the old lady 
breathed a sigh of relief; the anxious lines which had been 
drawn about her mouth during her grandson^s last speech 
vanished, and with almost friendly manner she looked across 
at him. 

‘‘I wanted to speak with you, Norman,"^’ she said at last. 
‘‘We must reflect upon the matter together. I have written 
to the duke, and am persuaded that the money is coming; I 
am compelletl, however, to keep a portion of this for myself; 
the other remains for you; I hope it will suffice to satisfy the 
claims of your worst creditors. But what then? And above 
all things, what — if contrary to all expectation relief does not 
come?^^ 

“ As for the duke^s readiness to help, I do not believe a 
word of it,^^ said he, moodily. “ And even if he should, it 
would be but a drop in the bucket. Nothing remains for me 
but — America. 

Suddenly he felt a grasp upon his shoulder, and his moth- 
er's face bent over him. “ Norman,^^ she queried, breathless- 
ly, “ what was that you were saying? You think of going off 
— far off?^^ 

He started and seized her hand; fain would he have com- 
forted her, but the horrified, tearful eyes hung so searchingly 
upon his face that he let her hand drop and turned away. 

“ Cornelia, you know that I can not bear anybody to creep 
in so noiselessly/^ scolded the old lady. But the person ad- 


150 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


dressed heard not; her heart stood still at the sound of that 
dreaded word, America. 

‘‘ All merciful Father! Is there no one who can help us? 
Norman, 1 shall die if you go away!'^ she pleaded, stretching 
out to him her clasped hands. “ This is the last, the hardest 
blow. 

“ Do not cry, nor distress yourself, mamma said he, 
without looking at her. “ 1^11 stay. I'll stay, but — " 

“ No, no, I know what you mean to do," she cried ; you'll 
go away secretly, without saying good-bye; I shall wake up 
some morning and find I have no son; Norman, can you do 
that? Can you go off where you know that you will never see 
me again?" In- cutting and heart-rending accents rang forth 
these words of lament. 

“ It would not be forever," said he, falteriiigly. “I will 
come again some day; we would write to each other; it — " 

The young man tore his hair in the violence of his excite- 
ment, exclaiming: Mamma, let me implore you not to make 
matters harder for me through your lamentations; only con- 
sider: I have immense debts — that is one fact; 1 can not pay 
them — that is another fact. 1 have tried my very best to find 
a way out of these straits; it was in vain. At New-year the 
affair comes to a crisis; bills of exchange come due then, there 
is a prison for me sure, I can not serve again; what else is left 
for me to do? Think you that I find the situation agreeable?" 
He hastily strode out of the room, and threateningly the door 
slammed behind him. For a second his foot was arrested ; it 
seemed to him as though he heard his mother shriek; then, 
moving on, he drew a letter from the pocket of his uniform 
and broke it open. “ It is correct — the batteries open fire," 
he whispered, running his eye over the lines. With lowering 
brow he entered his chamber and threw himself into the chair 
that stood in front of the old fire-place. 

Early this morning he had seemed to see a ray of hope — 
Lieschen; the words that had greeted his ear so softly whis- 
pered beneath the snow-covered linden had sounded to him like 
a message of peace after the stormy contentions of the past 
weeks — simple, child-like words had they been, coming from 
the pure heart of an innocent maiden — the sweet, modest 
manner of his old playmate had affected him like the perfume 
of violets. Ah! there was genuine, true love! Genuine love! 
No — hardly that. She had yielded so willingly to her father 
when he said to her, ‘‘ You will be unhajjpy— give him up!" 
But he could hardly find it in his heart to reproach her; no 
doubt her father had told her: “He does not love you; he 


A TALE OF AIS" OLD CASTLE. 


151 


only loves your gold/^ That was enough, and then, what 
could be that other thing about grandmamma? Baron Fritz 
and Lisette! Mr. Irving mentioned them this morning, when 
he spoke of the main grounds of his refusal. God knows how 
many other objections there were, but bah! it makes no 
further difference now. How soon will the talk in his garrison 
be something so: “ Lieutenant von Derenberg has stranded — 
run ashore — debts, of course,, reckless debts — it is the way of 
his family; his father before him shot himself in a like case; 
it happens so every day — hardly worth talking about, I de- 
clare/'' 

Lojig did he sit thus, brooding over his troubles. His moth- 
er! He ought to have been her prop and stay; yes, she would 
die, if he left her — and Nelly, poor little thing! — how would 
she manage all alone? 

He jumped up impulsively and tore open his uniform; in 
the middle of the room he stood still and gazed at a spot upon 
the wall. There had hung the portrait of the fair Agnes 
Matilda that he had fetched from the hall of his ancestors be- 
cause it was so like her; he had taken it down when she broke 
her word to him, and it still stood on the floor, with its face 
turned to the wall. 

He stepped across, lifted it up and hung it in its place — that 
wondrous countenance, with deeply melancholy eyes, again 
looked at him so confidingly, with such irresistible fascination 
— he stood before it with crossed arms, and gazed upon it, lost 
in thought. Those rich auburn tresses were to blame for what 
he had gone through, for what he now was, in consequence of 
a blind arnl fatal passion. For one moment he felt the.mov- 
ings of ardent longing. Would she not bestow one glance of 
pity when she learned to what degree he had fallen? He 
almost laughed aloud. No, those coldly glittering eyes could 
not give mild glances such as these; the picture was not like 
her, not at all, only the hair. A bitter, scornful expression 
appeared upon his features. 

Not a single one, not oner' 

He did not hear when some one softly and hesitatingly 
opened his room-door, nor did he see how a pale, girlish face 
peeped in with unsteady glances — how a slender form silently 
and timidly approached. In the middle of the room she stood 
still; her eyes fastened upon the golden-haired female form 
portrayed upon the canvas, which still enchained the young 
man’s attention. Involuntarily she made a movement as 
though preparatory to flight-— then he turned. 


152 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


Lieschen!^^ he stammered^ Lieschen, you — 

She did not answer, but only gave him a distressed look. 

What do you want, Lieschen?^^ he said, are you looking 
for Nelly? She — I do not know whether — 

No,^^ she answered. I have come to see you.''^ 

Me?^^ he asked, gently. 

Yes, I — wretchedness drove me, Norman. Your mother 
was at our house, and said you were about — Oh ! do not go 
off, Norman, do not go away! 1 shall not survive it.^^ The 
last words rang out like an agonizing appeal; she clasped her 
hands before her glowing face. 

You beg me to stay, Lieschen, and yet this morning con- 
sented to have me sent away, did you not?^^ he asked, bit- 
terly. 

Oh! it grieved me so when you went away, Norman, so 
very much, and yet more, a thousand times more, it pains me 
to know that you do not love me, that you only wanted me 
for — 

“ Your father told you that, Lieschen?^^ 

Yes, and is it not true, Norman’;^ And if I had still 
doubted — when just now your mother entered our house to 
ask father^s aid lest you be driven out into the wide, wide 
world; it must have become clear to me, I must have believed 
what my heart struggles against with all its might. 

She begged your father to help ?ne he asked, loudly 
and passionately, coming nearer to her. What a mad act!"^ 
‘‘ She loves you so, Norman, and did not know that you — 
that father — She looked up at him with anxious entreaty 
in her gaze. Do not go away, Norman, do not go."^^ 

There she stood before him, so charming and simple in her 
every-day dress of dark-blue cashmere; her long eyelashes were 
lowered in maidenly bashfulness, her breast heaving from anx- 
iety about Mm; from excitement consequent upon the step she 
had taken. One of her long plaits had come loose during her 
rapid run, and hung down over her shoulder; she did not 
notice it; she held out to him her tightly clasped hands, trem- 
bling in the eagerness of her appeal, and he dared not seize 
hold of them. 

There it was, embodied in loveliest shape, that great, all- 
conquering love of a woman^s heart, in which he had just now 
declared his disbelief! 

Do not be proud, Norman, was finally wrung from her 
lips, for your mother^s sake, and — for my sake, I should 
be wretched my whole life long in the consciousness of having 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 153 

failed to save you; let us be companions — good fellows as we 
used to be, Norman. 

A long pause ensued ; he had turned his face away and looked 
on the floor, his arms tightly crossed. She looked over at him, 
but by and by a deep and glowing crimson suffused her face, 
her clasped hands drop apart, and a few great tears gushed 
forth from beneath her eyelashes. A seething, hot sense of 
shame took sudden possession cf her being, and she turned to 
leave the room. Just then she heard steps, quick, familiar 
steps, outside. In great distress her eyes wandered around the 
room and met his. Utterly discomposed she stood still. 
‘"Aunt Marian,^^ she whispered, “she is coming to look for 
me.^’ 

But at the same moment Norman stood by her and drew her 
protectingly to his side; full of distress and confusion she hid 
her head upon his shoulder; she thought that they must hear 
the loud, full throbbing of her heart; now the door was opened; 
instinctively she nestled closer up to him, each moment ex- 
pecting to hear herself addressed wrathfully and reproachfully 
by a well-known voice. But no such thing; the old woman 
on the threshold stood there motionless, her eyes resting upon 
the picture before her in painful astonishment — there in the 
lofty, dimly lighted apartment just under the great chandelier, 
stood the young couple — his arm was thrown around her waist; 
" he held her in a firm, close clasp, and looked frowningly 
across at the old lady, as though he were angry at her intru- 
sion. Thus the two stood, a picture of sweetest affection. 

“ Ah! that is how it is, then! Where is the barrier that can 
keep out love and death?^^ She had suspected what was in 
her mind when Lieschen had le^t the house so hurriedly; she 
had made haste to follow, but how can one, with the weight of 
five-and-sixty years to carry, keep pace with such a young, 
light-footed thing? And so she came too late! too late! The 
poor child had run into grief with open arms. 

“ Lieschen!"^ she cried, despairingly. Then Lieschen looked 
up and freed herself from his embrace. 

“ Ah! do not scold,^^ implored she, sweetly. “ I could not 
help it, auntie, and she held out her hands to her; she tried 
to smile at the same time, but it would not do; the tears would 
come into her eyes. Almost passionately she flung her arms 
about the old lady’s neck and between her sobs again came 
forth from her lips these words: “ I could not help it, auntie 
— 1 could not help it!’^ 


154 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


CHAPTER XVL 

The following day brought bad weather; there had been a 
thaw, and the earth^s fair covering of snow had suddenly dis- 
appeared, leaving the brown wet trees lifting up their bare 
arms toward a dark and lowering sky; the winds whispered 
hoarsely of storms to come, and the alders on the mill-brook 
w;ere helplessly shaken till their heads almost touched the 
water’s edge. 

There was a general feeling of depression prevalent among 
the inmates of the mill; the maids in the kitchen spoke in an 
undertone one to the other, and the coachman who had slyly 
joined them several times scratched behind his ears in a signifi- 
cant manner. From the sitting-room came the sound of the 
master’s voice. The young baron was there. He had been 
there once before on yesterday, and since then Lieschen had 
been looking as white as a sheet. Something was going wrong, 
and no mistake; and Aunt Marian’s face, too, was very vine- 
garish — to say nothing of the master’s! 

The sitting-room w'as just now shut, and Marian crossed 
over the hall, and went upstairs as Dorothy remarked, who 
was peeping through a crack in the door: 

I do declare, Mina, our young lady has carried her point,” 
whispered she. Miss Marian is bringing her down; well, on 
the whole, why not? He is a handsome man and a nobleman, 
and they loved each other when he used to come home on fur- 
lough as a mere cadet.” 

Peter again put his hand behind his ears. 

‘^For my part,” said he, “if I w^ere the master, I would 
say no, on account of the old lady at the castle.” 

“Hush!” whispered Dorothy; “she is coming down the 
steps, I do declare; now they are entering the sitting-room; 
hurrah! a wedding-feast — how delightful!” 

But the \%ry.ipext minute she stood again at the kitchen 
table, busying herself with her glass and china, for Miss 
Marian was coming to the kitchen, and, in fact, immediately 
appeared. Her aged face wore a look of care, and her eyes 
bore testimony to the number of the tears that she had shed; 
at least so thought the servants. She stood as though lost in 
thought, then took a bunch of keys from her apron and went 
to the store-room. 

“Glasses, Dorothy!” was the order given when she again 


A TALE OP AK OLD CASTLE. 


155 


came out with a few bottles of wine in her hands, and put 
on a white apron when you hand them in.''^ 

-She set down the bottles upon the kitchen table and with- 
drew, wipifig her eyes as she went along. 

Good heavens!^^ cried the maid, after she came out of the 
sitting-room and had set the empty waiter down hard upon the 
table, “ that is a betrothal for you! "Why, the whole company 
sit as solemnly as if they were at a funeral; the master bites 
his lips to keep from crying; the mistress weeps as though 
Liesclien were dead,^nd Miss Marian does the same; the young 
baron stands beside his lady-love as cold and stiff as a ramrod. 
I saw how he just stooped and kissed her hand, as though a 
good hearty kiss on the mouth was not the proper thing at 
such a time; and our Liescheii looks like anything else than a 
happy promised bride. 

In about a half hour afterward a young engaged couple 
crossed the threshold of the old house. At the window stood 
old Marian, following them with her eyes, and from under the 
lindens a little pale face once more looked back to the win- 
dows; nothing was to be seen in it of the blushing rapture of 
a young girl whose hand has just been given to the man of her 
choice; there was a look of paijiful bitterness about the mouth, 
and her eyes, shaded by their long lashes, wore an expression 
of unutterable woe. Her betrothed had put her arm within 
his own, and so they moved oinvard, the veil to Lieschen^s 
little fur cap fluttering in the stiff breeze. Neither of the two 
spoke a word. Here they are again at the old linden-tree. 
The maiden^s hand trembled slightly and a deep blush mounted 
to her cheeks. 

‘‘ Are you tired, Lieschen? 1 am afraid I brought you too 
fast.^^ 

“ Oh, no; but I — am so afraid of your grandmother.'’^ 

He bit his lip, but was silent; he was himself being kept in 
no very pleasant state of suspense, so far as that lady was con- 
cerned. He knew his grandmother well enough to be per- 
suaded that she was capable of making herself very dis- 
agreeable. 

Again they proceeded on their way, and now turned into the 
linden avenue. The wind howled through the long lines of 
trees, and made their boughs creak and crackle; the lofty por- 
tal, flanked by its massive stone-cut bears, looked even more 
frowning and impressive than usual. Involuntarily Liescheii^S 
eyes scanned the face of tjie stately edifice. 


156 


A TALE OF AFT OLD CASTLE. 


What does that say?’^ asked she^ suddenly, pointing to 
the device of the coat of arms. 

‘‘ Nonqiiam retrormm — Never turn back/’ he replied. 

That is good/’ said she, drawing a deep breath and* quick- 
ening her pace. 

And now they stood before the little tower gate, a moment- 
ary weakness came over her. How shall I bear it if she in- 
sults me?” she asked, and an indescribable dread of an en- 
counter with that proud woman filled her with trembling and 
brought on a disagreeable, choking sensation. It seemed as 
though her feet must turn, as though she must betake herself 
to flight, now, ere it was yet too late. She appeared to her- 
self to be so helpless, so wholly unprotected; for /^6, he did not 
love her. 

Lieschen!” exulted a clear voice, and bursting into tears 
Nelly threw her arms around her neck, Lieschen! Sister 
Lieschen.” 

She submitted to her kisses; fugitive sunshine lighted up 
her face, and up there, on the threshold of that cozy old draw- 
ing-room, two arms were outspread to encircle her in a warm 
and firm embrace, while a few words of love she whispered in 
her ear. 

‘^My dear mother,” she whispered, bowing low over the 
thin hand, I shall always surely be an obedient daughter to 
you and — and a faithful wife to Norman. ” The last part of 
her sentence being pronounced almost inaudibly. 

Excuse me one minute, Lieschen. I am going to have 
grandmamma informed of our being here,” said Norman. 

She bowed her head in assent, and he went, to return again 
in silence immediately afterward. Her heart beat violently; 
involuntarily she folded her hands, while her color rapidly 
went and came, for in a second all that the proud old lady had 
done to her came rushing in upon her memory, burning itself 
in with characters of fire; and then rose up before her eyes the 
sweet image of her great-aunt, Lisette, and then that of an 
early grave in the church-yard over there. 

“ The baroness begs to be excused; sJie has a dreadful head- 
ache to-day, and can see no visitors.” Sanna’s voice, as she 
delivered this message, scared Lieschen out of her feverish 
course of thought. 

Then let me beg her to name some hour to-morrow when 1 
may present my betrothed to her.” This speech sounded calm 
enough apparently, and yet Norman darted a fierce glance at 
the old waiting- woman, whose eyes rested malevolently upon 
the young lady destined for his bride. The latter instinctively 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 157 

drew herself up to her full height, while Nelly seized her hand 
and gently stroked her cheek. 

“ Mamma/ ^ began Norman, taking a seat on the sofa beside 
Lieschen, my future father-in-law desires to have an inter- 
view with you, and would take it very kindly if you would 
come over to the mill this evening with Nelly, to celebrate — 

“ Certainly, Norman, certainly! I would have gone over 
with Nelly this morning if the weather had not been too in- 
clement.''^ 

“ The baroness can appoint no time whatever, but would be 
glad to see the lieutenant himself, alone, for a few minutes 
this evening. Thus ran the message now delivered by the 
old waiting-maid, who had just reappeared at the door. 

“ 1 am sorry, Sanna, but this particular evening I am by no 
means at my own disposal, since our betrothal is to be cele- 
brated down at the mill at that time. Do you hear, Sanna? 
down at the mill, I say. It would yet more grieve me, Sanna, 
if the baroness^'s headache should deprive us of the honor of 
her company at the entertainment. However, tell her that we 
— the betrothed pair— present our compliments to her and 
wish her a speedy recovery. 

“ Si signor hissed the old creature, who immediately 
afterward vanished. 

Quiet ensued. Norman walked up and down the room; his 
mother had drawn the young maiden closer to her side on the 
sofa, and held her hand firmly within her own. Ah! but it 
^uas fearfully hard: the consciousness of her embarrassing posi- 
tion suddenly came upon her with full force. She thought 
she should faint if her father, by any chance, discovered that 
the grandmother of her betrothed would not even see her — 
and what would auntie say? Yet it had all come about by 
her own desire, and she must not murmur; she had given her 
word. Yes, if he did but love her, then — 

“ I must go home,^^ said she, rising, for a sense of suffoca- 
tion was choking her. 

“ Why in such haste?^^ asked Norman. 

“ I — I would like to tell them at home of yourmother^s and 
Nellyas coming, she stammered. He took up his cap. 

“Oh! you stay here!’" she implored, earnestly. “I can 
go alone quite well. Come afterward with your mother and 
Nelly.” 

He shrugged his shoulders impatiently. “ Adieu, mamma! 
adieu, Nelly, for a little while,” he cried, while Lieschen, 
putting on her veil, extended her hand to hini with averted 
face. 


158 


A TALE 0¥ AJ^ OLD CASTLE. 


Out-of-doors the weather was still threatening, and again 
they walked silently side by side. 

“ You are too lightly ciad/^ said Norman, drawing off his 
own cloak to throw it around her shoulders. 

“ No, I am not at all cold — thank you kindly.-’’ He cast 
his cloak over his arm and walked on at her side. 

‘‘ The path is almost washed away,” he began after awhile, 
‘‘and, besides, we must soon get to the place where the mill 
stream has overflowed its banks — wait! Here we are already; 
I would like to see if a path does not lead along there through 
the thicket.” 

Ill the gray twilight she could discern his slender form, as 
he sought for a path on the other side of tlie waj^; then he 
came back. 

“ It is no go; the water is almost shoe deep on both sides; 
ITl carry you across.” 

“ ^^0,” exclaimed she, drawing back, “never!” 

“ Why not?” 

“ Because I would not have you trouble yourself on my ac- 
count in the least; wet feet do not hurt me, not in the least; 
we shall be at home directly.” 

He did not answer, and the darkness concealed his deepen- 
ing color, but immediately afterward she felt herself lifted up 
by strong arms and borne across. 

“ You must please excuse me, indeed,” sounded coolly and 
bitterly in her ear, when again she stood upon firm ground. 
“ A lady can not possibly pass this spot without assistance.” 

The rest of the way was silently traversed. As they entered 
the front hall curious faces were peering out of the kitchen, 
and Aunt Marian came forward to meet them. 

“ This is a storm, is it not?” was her kindly greeting as she 
opened the sitting-room door for them. 

“ Good-evening, Aunt Marian,” said Norman, offering her 
his hand, which, however, in marked manner she declined. 
“ Walk in, baron,” said she, coolly pointing the way, “ Lies- 
cheii will follow you directly; I have something particular to 
say to her, and you and Mr. Irving will have plenty to talk 
about.” She took Lieschen’s hand and drew her off to her 
own little room. 

“ We are to have a visitor. Aunt Marian,” said Lieschen; 
“ Peter is to fetch Norman’s mother and Nelly in the carriage. 
Please give orders that it be done.” 

The old lady went out, and upon her reappearance the 
flickering light from the lamp that she bore fell upon a tear- 
stained face that the twilight had before concealed. 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 159 

You have been crying, have you not, auntie?^^ asked Lies- 
"Chen, stooping down to her. 

‘‘ Well, yes, child, but never mind me! I would like to have 
a little talk w^th you this evening, because it is the day of your 
betrothal.''^ She put the lamp upon the table and stepped up 
to the maiden. “You see, Lieschen, I always expected he 
would have been more joyful, and that you would have been 
less pale as a bride. It is just as you would have it, child; you 
say you are happy too, and have implored your parents^ con- 
sent upon your knees, but, Lieschen, you could not deceive 
me; I know exactly howit is with that little heart, and this is 
what grieves me so sorely; I could almost sink from anguish 
of spirit. 

She turned around, walked to the bureau, straightened out 
its covering, opening and shutting the drawers, in a vain effort 
to hide the tears that dropped from her eyes and fell upon her 
poor old hands. Lieschen still stood silent in the middle of 
the room. 

“ To see you so still and subdued, my darling, said the old 
woman, wiping her eyes, “ can but distress me. Speak out, 
my precious child. Your Keart will feel lighter afterward. 

“ What am I to say, auntie? I have no trouble that I would 
like to speak of,’^ replied she. 

“ Come to me, Lieschen!^^ implored the old lady; “ prom- 
ise me one thing! If he should ever forget what you have done 
for him, if he should ever be unkind to you, and I am alive, 
child, th^n come to me. Then I will speak with him, and he 
will not try it for the second time.^^ 

She only smiled. “ Do not distress yourself, auntie, yet 
awhile. 

“ And the old baroness, child, did you speak to her?^^ 

“ No, Aunt Marian, I believe that she will not see me.^^ 

The old lady fired up indignantly, and her good face looked 
for a moment indescribably bitter in its expression; a harsh 
speech was upon the tip of her tongue, but a look at the pale 
girl before her sufficed to silence her. “Dear Lord!"^ she 
murmured, “ and all this without love!’^ And again her eyes 
filled with tears. 

Just now was heard rolling across the bridge the carriage 
which was to fetch the ladies from the castle, but at the same 
time the house door was opened; loud talking ensued, and 
then a cry of pity from Dorothy. 

“Alack! alack! but it is sad!^^ 

“It was old Thomas from the parsonage, said Marian, 
opening the door. True enough, there stood the crooked old 


160 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


man, and the cap which he held in his hand was dripping with 
rain, and Dorothy called out to Marian: 

‘‘Ah! only hear, the pastor’s little Carl has just died; dear 
me, how grieved I am at it!” 

“ Carl?” asked Lieschen, suddenly starting beside the old 
messenger, “ Carl!” 

“Yes, dear lady, he fell asleep about six o’clock. Alas^ 
Miss Lieschen, his poor father and mother! He was such a 
splendid boy; and you may be sure that there is grief in that 
house. They can hardly believe in it yet.” 

The young maiden was still accoutered in cloak and cap. 
Without pausing to reflect she moved to the house door. 

“ Whither would you go, child? Child! in this weather!” 

“ 1 am going to uncle, auntie, let me — please!” 

And already she was out-of-doors, breasting the fury of the 
elements. She could still hear the echo of Aunt Marian’s dis- 
tressful call after her, and over her bowed the branches of the 
alders, by the raging mill brook, wildly tossed by the fierce- 
ness of the wind. Then came a carriage toward her, but she 
stepped aside and let it pass, only continuing her way the 
more rapidly. This raging of the tempest’s wrath seemed 
to her sent in friendly mercy. What a torture it was to be 
seated in a comfortable sheltered apartment by his side; it 
looked like a picture of the sweetest bliss, and yet was some- 
thing so different; he did not love her; he had only wanted 
her for the sake of her money. The feeling of joyful self-sac- 
rifice with which she had offered her hand had melted away 
before the humiliations to which she had been subjected. And 
he who had accepted this sacrifice, what, was he doing to 
sweeten these humiliations. W as it then so very hard to be her 
good comrade? 

How wildly the old linden-tree tossed its arms, and how 
swiftly the clouds chased each other over the leaden sky. And 
down there in the parsonage tears were being wept, hot, bitter 
tears — if it were possible to find even that relief! But she did 
wish, she did wish that people would not look at her so com- 
passionately — father and mother and auntie, too, even Doro- 
thy and Peggy — yes, it was dreadful; that she could not stand. ” 

Hurried steps sounded behind her, did they not? Yes, and 
now, the call, “ Lieschen! Lieschen!” She stood still. If she 
could only go to meet him, hang upon his arm, and have him 
say, “ I came because 1 was uneasy about you!” but no, her 
father had sent him, of course, or he would have followed any 
one; he could not let any lady go alone in this storm. 

“Ah! Lieschen, how could you?” now came to her ear in 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


^ 161 


his voice; how can you go out in such weather? Your par- 
ents are grieving themselves to death about you; here is a 
shawl from Aunt Marian, and wait! the carriage must be here 
presently; I directed it to be sent after me without delay. Are 
you still the same impulsive little Lieschen, whose heart goes 
forth so tenderly to the distresses of strangers?* asked he, fold- 
ing the shawl around her. 

She smiled bitterly. Our pastures family are no strangers 
to me.^^ He took no notice of the hardness perceptible in her 
tone, and just then the carriage came up and stopped close 
before them. 

“ May I attend you?^^ he asked, helping her to get in, or 
do you prefer to ride alone ?^^ 

She felt like assenting to the latter clause of his sentence, 
but then her glance fell upon him, and she saw that he was 
without great-coat or cloak. 

I would not have you take cold on my account,^^ said she, 
distinctly; take a seat, please.'’^ 

After a short drive the carriage stopped. Lieschen disr 
mounted alone and entered the parsonage. It was dark in the 
front hall, and there was a h^sh of silence all around. She 
groped for the door of the drawing-room, and knocked. The 
echo came back with startling resonance, but no friendly 
‘‘ Come in!^^ An indescribable feeling of awe crept over her 
here in the house of death, but courageously she felt her way 
forward. There were the steps, and now, at their head, to the 
right, the study; gently she knocked; again there was no an- 
swer, but light shone through a crevice. She opened tiie door 
and peeped in; there sat the good pastor at the table, his face 
buried in his hands, and before him lay the open Bible. 

“Uncle Pastor! Uncle Pastor!^^ cried she, sobbing and 
hiding her head on his shoulder. 

“ Lieschen, you good child! Yes, we have had a heavy 
blow,^^ said he, solemnly, stroking down her damp brown 
tresses. “And so you have come to us through all this 
weather? How good in you! Only to think — our Carl, Lies- 
chen, our brave, handsome boy — oh! it is hard, not to mur- 
mur against God. My poor Eosiir^ He was the pride of her 
heart. 

“Oh! uncle, uncle !^^ she sobbed in keen anguish, “how 
sad, how hard this life is!^^ 

“ You ought not to have come, you good child,^^ was whis- 
pered in the maiden^s ear, and the little woman who had just 
entered unawares and whose eyes were red with weeping, lifted 
6 


162 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLEo 


up her head aud kissed her. ‘‘It has been raining on yoa, 
and you might get sick. 

“ May I not see Carl once more? Please, aunt?^^ said she, 
still sobbing. 

And in the adjoining chamber there lay a pale boy^s face on 
the snow-white pillow. Softly she approached and looked at 
the well-known features — how often had those lips called her 
“ Aunt Lieschen,^^ how often those large eyes looked merrily 
up at her, and now so still, so mute! The little mother again 
pressed her face against the pillows of the couch, and her hus- 
band stood upon the other side, gazing upon all that was still 
left him of his proud dreams of the future. But Lieschen^s 
tears ceased to flow, such a sweet calm rested upon the counte- 
nance of the child before her. How delightful it must be to 
sleep so sweetly, with such a happy smile, without having to 
experience life’s woes! 

“Ho not cry, aunt! He sleeps so peacefully; he looks so 
happy. Then she slowly turned to go. 

She stopped in his study. “ Uncle, said she, softly, lay- 
ing her hand upon his arm. “ May I ask you a question at 
si:^ch an hour.^^ 

“At any time, even now, my Lieschen. Am I wrong in 
conjecturing that it refers to yourself and Norman? Some- 
thing of the sort has come to my ears to-day. 

“ Yes, uncle; and 1 can not go away until you have told me 
how I ought to act.’^ She took her seat upon the little study 
sofa. “Father refused his consent,” continued she, “and 
A unt Marian said that my engagement to Norman was my mis- 
fortune, because he was not thinking of me but of my money; 
a!id father appealed to my womanly pride. At first I sub- 
mitted ; it was such a dreadf unfeeling to experience. I wanted 
1 1 be strong, uncle, but then — then his mother came and 
Ir uented his i^urpose of going to America — and that, uncle, 
drove me to him, and I pleaded with him not to go away, for 
I was half mad through agony of soul. I told him that he 
need look upon me only as a good comrade. And then father 
gave his consent because 1 begged him so, even going down 
upon my knees to him. Uncle, 1 should have died if Norman 
had set out for America without my having tried to save him; 
Norman little dreams what a conflict it- cost me. And now it 
is unspeakably hard for me to occupy such a position; my 
heart feels a pang at every step that I take by his side — my 
pride revolting at the thought that I am indeed his betrothed 
but a stranger to his love. Ah! uncle, I am so unhappy!’^ 
She burst into tears and hid her face in the sofa pillow. 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


163 


Dear child/ ^ said the minister, gently stroking her pretty 
head, while he took his seat beside her and grasped her hand, 
a little quotation occurs to me from my Rosina^s album; it 
was written there by her old grandmother, when, as a young 
girl, she left her father’s house to go out as a governess. ^ If 
you ever have to struggle with your feelings, my beloved child, 
mortification and wounded vanity fighting against a disposition 
to pardon and love, then let love triumph, even at the price of 
seeming humiliation. The sweetest, most glorious thing that 
a woman can do is to love, always to love, however ill she may 
be treated.’ Have patience, child,” he added as the maiden 
lifted to him her tearful countenance, he has just passed 
through a bitter disenchantment, and the consciousness of hav- 
ing taken a step that will be nowhere construed in his favor 
will of itself be sufficiently torturing to him. He will conquer 
this in time, be grateful to you for having saved him from 
poverty and shame, and some day a spark of love for you will 
be discovered in his heart, that, fostered and nursed with 
humility, forbearance and unwearied loving-kindness, will as- 
suredly kindle into a glowing flame. But take heed that you 
do not extinguish that feeble spark by sensitiveness — the rather 
deal with him as with a sick child.” 

Liescheii had risen to her feet. Thank you, uncle,” said 
she, softly, and you will comfort my parents, will you not? 
telling them that I may yet be happy, and auntie too, please? 
I will be friendly with Norman, and considerate, and ivill con- 
quer my sensitiveness. Ah! if only my father would not be 
angry with Norman and me. He looks so troubled and hurt!” 

It is hard for him, my child, to dismiss anxiety. You are 
his only daughter, and about to enter Into an entirely different 
sphere under such trying auspices. Do not find fault with him 
if he frowns, and just as little with Aunt Marian! The old 
lady loves you so dearly. They will look cheerful again when 
they'see you contented at Norman’s side — and this depends 
upon yourself; you love him, and you know love ‘ beareth all 
things, endureth all things and hopeth all things. ’ ” 

‘‘ You say rightly, uncle,” said she with beaming glance as 
^he held out her hand to him, ‘‘ and I shall act upon your ad- 
vice. Farewell, uncle! I’ll come again to-morrow, and — alil 
dear, dear uncle, Carl has been spared so much pain!” 

Outside before the carriage door stood Norman. He helped 
her in and tookjiis place by her side. Once more they silently 
rode out into, the night. 

“ Norman/'’ said she, suddenly laying her hand upon his 
«houlder, 1 was out of humor and unkind awhile ago. Par- 


164 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


don me. I have just come from a house of death. He took 
her hand in his and turned toward her. 

I have a favor to ask of you/^ she continued, ere he could 
answer. You know that my father gave an unwilling con- 
sent to our engagement. Forgive him, Norman! I am his 
only child — help me to dispel the clouds fmm his brow! Do 
a little as if you loved me, and let him believe that you are 
happy. I will do so too — indeed I am,^^ added she softly. 

He did not answer. 

‘‘ Will you, Norman?^^ asked she, hesitatingly. 

• Already the carriage was rolling over the mill bridge, and 
past the manufactory; it drove around the bare linden-trees, 
and now stopped before the house door. Norman kept his 
head averted and looked out of the window. Dorothy came 
with her lantern to open the carriage door; he sprung out and 
offered his hand to help Lieschen out; there was an expression 
of deepest emotion upon his face. So he was to do as if he 
loved her! And should he now say to her, My heart really 
beatS^for you warmly, you pure and lovely creature; an atmos- 
phere of peace makes itself felt in your presence, that cools 
with its sweet breath the fever^ of a stormy and woful pas- 
sion,^^ would she believe it? Just here was the wretchedness 
- — he had lost her confidence. He looked up at her, he wanted 
to answer her; what? Yes, and yet he knew not how to say it 
on the instant, and already by the flashing light of the lantern 
he saw a graceful head stoop from the carriage; the little fur 
cap set jauntily upon her rich brown plaits: her delicate face 
was still flushed from weeping, although a soft, bashful smile 
about the blooming mouth deepened two charming dimples in 
her cheeks; but h^reyes looked into his own as though craving 
an answer, and made him feel like retiring in confusion. 
Where had he seen sucli eyes before? Steeped in sorrow they 
looked as though they sought a lost happiness. Almost pas- 
sionately he drew her to fim and gazed long and deeply into 
the blue depths of those sad orbs that continually increased in 
radiance. 

The carriage had driven off, and Dorothy took refuge from 
the storm within the protecting door-way; darkness was about 
the two young people left outside. Again he essayed to speak 
and again his lips were shut. “ She would not believe you,^^ 
said he to himself. Nor did she venture to repeat her ques- 
tion, when he slowly released her hand. He will utter no 
falsehood,^^ thought she, and stepped over the old threshold; 
‘‘ he will not promise what he can not perform — he does not 
love me/^ And the light in those radiant eyes was again ex- 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 165 

tinguished and she pressed both hands to her heart. “ Alas! 
he does not love me!^^ 


CHAPTEE XVII. 

‘‘ And you say, Henry, that my grandmother saw the two 
together 

Bess assured me so, lieutenant, the evening before she dis- 
appeared. 

The young officer sat in one of the large arm-chairs belong- 
ing to his own room^nd looked across searchingly and with 
keen interest at the old man, who stood not far from him in 
reverential attitude, and in whose features was discernible a 
slight embarrassment. Although the hour was late, Norman 
had had him summoned, because he wished to ascertain by 
what motive his grandmother had been actuated, and in what 
was rooted that hatred which had manifested itself again to- 
day in the ignominious treatment of his betrothed. He wanted 
to hear from some impartial party an explanation of the hints 
dropped by his future father-in-law. He had finally thought 
of soundiiig Henry on the subject, and after much stammer- 
ing and hesitancy, the old man had finally begun to tell of 
Baron Fritz, who had been so much in love with the lovely 
Lisette down at the mill. 

‘‘At that time, continued the old man, “one evening 
Baron Fritz came riding home right merrily. I took off his 
great-coat for him (the weather was cold), and then I opened 
the little tower room, and made a fire on the hearth — 

“ The little tower room?^^ said the young officer, suddenly 
interrupting the narrator. 

“ The very same, lieutenant. Baron Fritz always stayed 
there, and I know why — from there he overlooked the window 
of his ladye-love. So I made up his fire, brought him a bottle 
of Madeira, and helped him to change his clothes. And then 
he asked about everything that had happened in his absence, 
and whether his brother had come home yet. And I answered 
all his questions, telling him that the master was looked for in 
three days. Then he wanted to know how his mother did, his 
sister-in-law, and the rest; and while he talked he kept rum- 
maging the drawers of his desk, and at last asked, quite anx- 
iously: 

“ ‘ Henry, did you clean up here after I left in such haste?^ 

“ ‘ To be sure I did, baron, ^ said I. 

“ ‘ Did you see anything of a little gold heart 
“‘No.^ 


166 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


‘‘ And he continued to search, and I sought with him; but 
the missing article was not to be found. At last he yielded 
the point, but seemed very sad. 

‘ You must know, Henry, ^ he then said, ‘ that this loss is 
right hard upon me. I’ll give you fifty dollars if you can get 
back that heart for me.’ 

And then he took up his hat and stick — for he always 
wore the civilian’s dress at home — and said that he must take 
a little walk in the park before he presented himself to the 
ladies. You see, I knew very well where he meant to go. 

To tell the truth, lieutenant, those fifty dollars ran in my 
head, so that again I began to hunt and hunt, but all in vain. 
Then 1 took the candle and went into the* adjoining sleeping- 
room, and while there it seemed to me as- though I heard the 
door move upon its hinges as softly and slyly as possible, 
whereupon I quickly stepped in, but started back, for who 
should stand there but Sanna, the very picture of a surprised 
culprit. 

“ You know, lieutenant, I am older now, and of quieter 
turn; but then I could not endure the sight of that gawky old 
hag with cold gray eyes, black hair, and yellow skin. I 
always knew her for a false creature', and therefore yelled at 
her as though she had been some fiend, and asked her what 
she did there. 

‘‘ ^ My mistress,’ said she, ‘ wants to know when Baron Fritz 
returns?’ She used always to call me Enrico in those days, 
because she was so proud of being an Italian. ‘ Where is the 
barcn?’ she asked once more. 

‘ Go to the devil!’ shrieked I, ^ and don’t come playing 
the spy here! I do not know where he is.’ 

“ And with that I wanted to thrust her out. 

‘ Hark!’ said she; and as soon as there was silence again 
the village bells could be heard tolling the hour of somebody’s 
death. S^he began to cross herself and to mutter an Ave Maria; 
but still I tried to get rid of her. 

‘‘ ‘ Be off, I say; do you hear?’ 

And just before she got to the door she turned around and 
said: 

“ ‘ Do you know, Enrico, who is dead? It is the miller’s 
Lisette. ’ 

The miller’s Lisette! I was so horrified that I trembled. 

‘ Saints above! what will Baroji Fritz say?’ was my first 
thought. He Tvent out so merrily to meet her, and — and now 
dead, that joyous, bright young creature! It was glorious, sir, 
only to behold the maiden — for that matter, though. Miss Lies- 


A TALE OE AK OLD CASTLE. 


167 


chen is the very image of her great-aunt — they are as alike as 
any two peas. And while 1 was yet standing there a storm 
came on, so that the trees were blown down, and the wind 
howled around the creaking old walls until they threatened to 
fall in and crush us. Still Baron Fritz came not, and meanwhile 
the weather grew worse and worse, and it seemed as though the 
hurricane would uptear the old tower; no object could be dis- 
tinguished in such darkness, however much I tried, pressing 
my face against the window-glass. The castle clock had 
already struck ten, and still he delayed his return. Oh> sir, 
it was a fearful night! All of a sudden the door flew open, 
and when 1 turned around, my horrified eyes beheld Baron 
Fritz — he stood in the middle of the room, and at his feet 
knelt mad Bess, pale and disordered, holding up her hands to 
him in agonized entreaty. 

‘ Ask my sister-in-law, Henry,^ said he, in a voice of sup- 
pressed passion, ‘ to take the trouble to come here for one 
minute!^ 

I flew to the door, lieutenant; I knew something dreadful 
had happened when I saw that girl’s utterly broken look; and 
when I tore open the door, there stood the baroness — your 
grandmother — outside on the point of coming in. She started 
back when she caught sight of her brother-in-law; a mo- 
mentary shudder shook her frame, and she hastily hid some- 
thing in her dress-pocket, but then with apparent tranquillity 
entered the room. 

“ Seldom has a more beautiful woman been ever seen, lieu- 
tenant, than she, as she stood there in a long white gown, her 
black locks half loosened, and large dark eyes lighting up her 
pale face until she looked like an angel of innocence by the 
side of that poor creature groveling on the earth. 

caro amico/ called out to the baron, ‘what 
means this?’ and she pointed her finger at Bess, as though in 
bewilderment. 

“‘Come in, sister-in-law!’ he roughly replied. ‘Go, 
Henry, and shut the door!’ 

“ Now, for the first time, he turned his face toward me — 
Sir, I was then a stout, strapping fellow, but it made me trem- 
ble. How he did look! his eyes seemed sunken: his bright, 
blooming countenance was seamed and furrowed by lines of 
consuming grief, and there were twitchings about the mouth 
indicative of outbursting wrath. While 1 live I shall never 
forget that sight, and the deadly distress I experienced when I 
closed that door behind the baroness; my teeth chattered from 
excitement, and I stood in the passage as though spell-bound. 


168 


A TALE OF AN- OLD CASTLE. 


Sanna, too, sneaked up, and there we two stood hardly daring 
to breathe. At first their conversation was unintelligible; 
nothing was audible but the lady^s faint voice, with ever and 
anon a sob from Bess; but then we plainly heard the baron^s 
words, uttered in thundering tones. He called the baroness a 
murderess, cursing her and her house. I stood like a stock or 
stone, and then the door suddenly fiew open and the baroness 
rushed out, fieeing like a hunted hind along the corridor and 
down the stairs. Awfully she looked, and when she reached 
the bottom fiung her arms around the column there as though 
seeking support, and slipped fainting to the ground. I can 
still see her before me, stretched -out stiff cold, and hear 
Sanna^s shriek as she picked her up and bore her off in her 
arms. And almost at the same moment Bess was thrust forth 
and the baron stood in the door-way. 

^My horse he ordered in a hoarse voice; and as I was 
hurrying off, Bess ran past me, her hands before her face, 
through the hall out into the night and the raging storm. 

I brought up the baron^s horse; he swung himself upon it 
with his pale, distorted countenance — that poor beast; it reared 
high upon its haunches, so deeply were the spurs pressed into 
its sides, then rushed off at such a rate that I thought there 
would be an accident. And then all of a sudden he came 
back; I was still standing on the front d<fSr step, exposed to 
the fury of the storm, and listening to the clattering of his 
horse^s hoofs as he drew nearer. He threw a piece of gold 
at me. 

“ ‘ Listen, Henry, ^ said he; ‘go to my old mother and bid 
her farewell for me; she will never see me again — ^ 

“I lost his last words; whether the storm drowned their 
sound or his voice broke down through weeping, I do not 
know. He gave me his hand, and then was off, sir, and never 
came again. 

‘‘ But as for Bess, I saw her once more; she knelt there on 
that spot beneath the old linden-trees, and when she saw him 
riding away into the dark, dread night, she uttered such a 
piercing shriek that I ran across to where she lay. And there, 
sir, 1 found a poor, miserable creature, ready to consume her- 
self in penitence and remorse — and so I concluded that after 
all she was not so bad, and I consoled her In her affliction.' 
She told me then that Baron Fritz and the beautiful Lisette 
had been separated, and that she had died because she had 
been made to believe him untrue, and — this as all that I 
know.^^ 


A TALE OF AlSr OLD CASTLE. 


169 


Do you really suppose, Henry, that my grandmother — 
The young man^s voice had a depressed sound. 

Oh, sir, it does not become me to believe anything bad of 
my master^s family. I have no proofs that Baron Fritz was 
justified in pronouncing those frightful curses; but this I 
do know — that he and the baroness had not been on good 
terms for a long while, because — well, he had once meddled in 
her affairs; then she was fearfully proud; she would not, on 
any account, have recognized a miller’s daughter as a relation, 
and therefore, lieutenant, scrupled at nothing. I may say so 
much to you, seeing that I have known you from the cradle, 
and watched you growing up. Do not take it ill of me — Miss 
Lieschen — 

Is my betrothed, Henry.’’ 

I know it, sir, and have rejoiced to see you two together 
as 1 would not have believed that I ever could rejoice again. 
Ah, sir! treasure your betrothed, and watch over her without 
ceasing. Ah! such bitter grief as might come to such a sweet 
young creature in this castle — pardon me. Baron — it has 
almost killed me to say this to you — but she is so like Lisette, 
especially as regards the eyes, just as blue and deep and clear, 
and exactly the same expression in them. Such eyes are not 
to be forgotten. God send them only tears of joy.” 

The voice of the old man trembled as he now took his leave, 
and his voice sounded dreamily in Norman’s ears as he said 
good-night; he heeded them not, for present to his soul were 
those same innocent blue eyes, but with the same unsatisfied, 
unspeakably sad look in them as he had seen this evening. 

The same eyes!” he repeated in a whisper, ‘‘ the same ex- 
pression,” but he was looking over at the picture of Agnes 
Matilda. The candle had burned low; it only now and then 
flared up unsteadily, and the rich red hair was indistinctly visi- 
ble by that faint light. Meanwhile those two dark, melancholy 
eyes set in a pale countenance gazed steadily across at the 
young man as sadly and longingly as though they sought a Idst 
happiness. Yes, there they were, the very eyes that had 
forced themselves upon his recollection, as he was getting out 
of the carriage — the eyes of the fair Agnes Matilda! 


OHAPTEE XVIII. 

Ok the following day Norman went to the mill; his father- 
in-law having said he desired to have an interview with him. 
Lieschen he did not see. Aunt Marian, who opened the door 
of ^r. Irving’s office for him, replied to his questions that the 


170 


A TALE OE AN OLD CASTLE. 


young lady was still asleep, adding that a bit of rest was need- 
ful and likely to be beneficial, when one has been crying the 
whole night through. A dark shadow rested upon his counte- 
nance as he entered his future father-in-law^s room; he had 
longed for a sight of Lieschen since last night, and the thought 
of her having wept all night lay heavy upon his heart. He 
had to wait a few moments. Mr. Irving was over in the 
counting-house, and involuntarily his glance took in a survey 
of the apartment; and very comfortable it looked with its dark 
carpet, with green curtains and furniture covered in the same 
color. On a massive desk stood a portrait; it was a photograph 
of Lieschen taken in her childhood, and the lovely little face 
had a peculiarly merry and roguish expression. He took up 
the picture to examine it more narrowly, and was still holding 
it in his hand when Mr. lr\ing entered. 

That excellent man^s face wore an expression of weariness 
and anxiety altogether unusual to it; he had evidently slept 
but little during the past night. Pardon me for having 
kept you waiting, was his opening remark, as he offered his 
hand to the young man. Take a seat,^^ he requested, and 
let us proceed forthwith to business. 1 shall not use much 
circumlocution,’^ he continued, pushing a chair for himself up 
to the table. ‘‘In the first place, we must both proceed to 
your garrison, in order to arrange matters there; then you are 
to send in your resignation — you owe me no thanks for deter- 
mining it thus! She is my only child ” — his voice trembled 
at these words~“ and I would at least keep her near me and 
under my protection. ” 

Norman bowed an acquiescence, but the hot blood mounted 
boiling to his cheeks. 

“ I make no unreasonable requirement,” continued the 
other; “ you know that in earlier days my family purchased a 
considerable portion of the lands lying adjacent. Now Lies- 
chen is our only child. I have consulted with my wife as to 
what is the best thing to do, and we have agreed that you 
ought to be Lord of Derenberg as your fathers were before 
you. I have already written early this morning to Hell wig, to 
inform him of the turn affairs have taken, and desired him to 

meet me at S , mainly with a view to try and see how 

much we can redeem of your ancestral estates, now h^Jd by 
improper hands, in order to add them to the whole. I hope 
we shall succeed in the main. In return I expect from you, 
that you — ” he suddenly broke off, then stepped up to the 
desk and searched among his papers. “ I did not give a glad 
consent,” said he, turning again to the young man, his voice 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


171 


"^sounding weak and soft, for I feared lest my daughter might 
be subjected to many humiliations, but she would have it so. 
I know you only from your childhood, for as a young man you 
have not frequented my house, but the little that I do know of 
you is not exactly calculated to inspire unreserved confidence. 
Up to this time you have faithfully followed in your grand- 
mother's footsteps, who looks down most contemptuously upon 
all persons in my class of life; your forefathers — that I know 
— thought differently. My poor sick wife and I have now 
given you what we held as our most precious possession, and 
tlierefore I entreat you to defend and esteem my child. I can 
not have your grandmother treat her as she has done your iin- 
happy mother; this promise I must ask of you, and you are to 
give it to me now, for so soon as I see tears in my child’s eyes I 
shall make you responsible for them: Will you promise to do 
your utmost to protect my child against the haughtiness of 
that woman?” 

He held out his hand to him. Norman would have liked to 
fall upon the man’s neck. Derenberg was to be his again — 
his fairest dream realized! And yet a mountain load lay upon 
his joy. 

Lieschen shall never repent of having saved me from a 
dark future,” he replied, giving his hand to her father. “ I 
shall know how to protect her in every way — from my grand- 
mother; I must go to her without delay.” 

Irving’s quick, searching glance scanned the face of the 
young man before him, who looked outwardly calm, save that 
his eyes flashed from excitement. 

“ Do not allow yourself to be carried away by passion,” ex- 
horted the older man, laying his hand upon Norman’s shoul- 
der; remember that she is your father’s mother,' and that old 
age is to be reverenced. I ask nothing more than that she re- 
frain from doing injury to my child; for the rest, she may act 
as she will. Compose yourself then, Norman — do you hear? 
She is an old woman. ” 

It was the first time that he had called the young officer by 
his Christian name. Quite touched, he looked up at him. 
And this was the man with whom he had once said in foolish 
pride that he could not associate with. Now he was caring for 
him like a father. Why, he had to thank him for everything, 
everything — even to his whole future. 

Go, now, Norman!” was his reminder as the young man 
grasped his hand and pressed it without speaking, and this 
afternoon we shall set out on our trip. Go, and once more 
— moderation!” 


172 A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 

He walked as though in a dream. Up there at the end^of 
the avenue loomed up the eastle and that grand portal, deco- 
rated as it was with his own coat of arms. For a moment his 
glance remained riveted, he seemed to himself to-day so small, 
so pitiful. 

He threw his head back, and a look of resolve was upon his 
face as he mounted the steps of the staircase leading to his 
grandmother^s room. There Nelly came running to meet 
him, her eyes radiant as stars. 

How is Lieschen, Norman?^^ she asked, standing upon an 
upper step and flinging her arms around his neck. He looked 
into her smiling face. 

‘‘Will you do me a favor, dear?^^ he asked, stroking back 
the hair from her forehead. She nodded eagerly. 

“ Yes? Then go to her. But soon, directly, and tell her 
that I send my love, and say that she is to cry no more, no 
more for my sake — do you hear?’^ He hurriedly dropped her 
little hand, but when he read in her features an astonished, 
questioning expression, he called back: “Just go fast! and 
stay with her a bit! I have to speak with grandma now."^^ 

In the corridor Sanna slipped past him; her salutation was 
somewhat snappish. 

“ Can 1 speak with grandma now?^^ he asked. 

“ I have already been twice to your room, baron, she re- 
plied. “ Your grandmother awaits your coming with impa- 
tience. 

He quickly left her behind and entered. The old lady sat 
in her accustomed place by the flreside. She nodded distantly 
and pointed him to a seat. “You have kept me waiting a 
long while, she said. 

“ I have been holding a necessary interview with my future 
father-in-law, he answered, taking a chair. ‘ ‘ He was so 
good as to impart to me his plans for our future. 

“The experiment has succeeded, then?^^ she asked, quot- 
ing his own words. “ Well, at all events you have not yet 
exchanged rings; the matter then still remains under discus- 
sion.*^^ He made a gesture of impatience. “ You will allow 
me to say a few words, will you not.^^^ she asked. 

Norman bowed slightly and suddenly his glance fell upon a 
sheet of paper held between his grandmother's delicate Angers. 
Well he knew that thick, cream-colored paper, and the sight 
of it sent the blood rushing to his heart. 

“In the first place," began the old lady, taking a second 
letter from the little table at her side, “ here is a very amiable 
communication from the duke; he asks to be made acquainted 


A TALE OF AIT OLD CASTLE. 


173 


with your circumstances, and promises me to interest himself 
for you in every way. This is a promise the scope of which 1 
hope you appreciate. Your position as an officer is assured, 
your career unobstructed.''^ She looked at him curiously. 

My advice is to put an immediate end to this ridiculous farce 

down at the mill and set off forthwith for S 

Grandma/^ he answered, quietly, ‘‘you can ndt possibly 
mean that seriously 

“ 1 do believe he is in earnest she exclaimed. “Here 
you are running with full sails into the obscurest connections, 
in spite of my efforts to save you from them for others more 
conformable to your rank.^^ 

“ More conformable to my rank?^^ asked he. “ Hardly; the 
connections into which 1 enter are of the best. 

“ Probably as the partner of your gentlemanly father-in-law 
— Miller No. 2! Is not that it?^^ 

“Please, grandma, let us cut short this controversy! I 
shall never take back my word, even if your proposition had 
aught in it that could tempt me — so much the less, though, 
because I have no disposition whatever to retract my vows."" 

“ Then I shall leave this house!"" cried she, provoked, “ be- 
fore your wife sets foot in it."" 

“ I shall be very sorry for it, grandma. You might accom- 
plish so much by a little goodness; indeed if you — "" 

“ You think, then, that it is better for me to go?"" asked 
she. “ Very good, Norman, I shall do so. See, here is a way 
out of the difficulty."" 

She held out the cream-colored letter before his eyes; he 
recognized the handwriting of his faithless betrothed; involun- 
tarily he started back. 

“Bianca!"" he asked, in a dull tone, “does she write to 
you?"" 

“ Do you know what she writes to me? She begs me to ac- 
company her on a tour of Italy, because the colonel is hindered 
from going with her by his duty to the service. I should pre- 
fer to cast back into her teeth both this wish and her flat- 
teries, but under present circumstances there is no other re- 
course; I shall accept her offer."" 

“ You would — you could do such a thing? You could go 
to her who thus deceived me, grandma?"" asked the young 
man, trying to take her hand. 

“ Nothing else is left for me to do. I can"t hold intercourse 
with those people. down there. I will not, and shall not,"" s}ie 
asseverated. 


174 


A TALE OE AK OLD CASTLE. 


Then it is indeed better that yon should go/^ said he, In 
low tones, and turning around. 

‘‘ This is the recompense, then, for all my life — this is the 
fulfillment of all the hopes I had set upon you.^^^ she burst 
forth. Incredible ! When I picture you to myself down 
there in the counting-house upon a clerk^s stool, continued 
she, breathlessly, “ writing and keeping books, you who so 
recklessly refused to strike into a glorious career — 

I ought to have been content* if my father-in-law had as- 
signed me to a clerk^s desk; but he has done better by me. 
Liescheu brings me as her dowry our old paternal inheritance, 
and I shall once more be the bona-fide Lord of Derenberg.^^ 

He had spoken slowly and intoned each word. 

She turned around with a jerk, her great eyes looked across 
at him as though through a veil, and as though his words were 
incredible. 

Bought dearly enough she then managed to stammer 
forth with difficulty. 

‘^Howso?^^ 

Because you will be irrevocably chained to a wife who will 
be looked down upon by your compeers, and finally one whom 
you do not love, never will love. 

Who says so?^^ he asked, and a subtle smile played about 
his mouth. Ought the latter to be so very impossible a 
thing? I should think you would have expected the opposite, 
judging from your own experiences. Think of my notorious 
Uncle Fritz and the lovely Lisette!^^ 

The old lady did not answer; she leaned back in her arm- 
chair, and her fingers clutched at Bianca^s letter, but her face 
had turned white, as white as the lace on her cap. 

My brother-in-law never dreamed of marrying that girl,^^ 
said she at last. must be his defender on that point; it 
was such a passion as gentlemen are accustomed to have by 
the dozen; knowledge of that story ought more especially to 
drive from you the mad thought of taking a wife out of that 
house. 

“ Oh, no! Just the contrary. If anything could strengthen 
me in my decision, it would be the desire to make amends 
thereby for injuries done by silly pride and ignoble revenge. 

‘‘ These dark hints are perfectly inexplicable to me,'’^ she 
burst forth, rising to her feet in excitement. “Your grand- 
father's brother was a man who had no self-control, but led a 
licentious, irregular life — he perished, God knows where! He 
was a hypocrite, who knew excellently how to conceal his frivo- 
lous dispositions under the -mask of an honest, honorable ex- 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


175 


terior, and it grieves me that you have allowed yourself to be 
imposed upon by a legend in which that moralizing hussar 
officer plays the part of saint alongside of that Lisette. But 
just on that very account, because such unbecoming relations 
once existed between us and those people down there, relations 
which, God be praised, were sundered by a higher judgment, 
therefore I repeat it, now and never shall I treat that girl as 
your bride, never shall I offer her my hand, and if you insist 
upon carrying out your purpose — very well, then 1 go — I now 
know whither — she lifted up Bianca^s letter — and although 
it will be hard for me to take this step for her who deceived 
you, I prefer it to the prospect of living in the same house as 
this person/^ 

Her lips quivered and her eyes sparkled with anger. 

You will have to go, then, grandma! It grieves me that 
it has come to this; but you would have had a perfect right to 
say that I was no man, but a vain dreamer, whose arm was 
paralyzed by a little bit of misfortune if I should swerve from 
my decision. I can not, as a man of honor; I will not, be- 
cause I do not mean to be so foolish as to cast from me a 
whole future of happiness. 

You yourself bid me go away, then?^^ asked the old lady, 
breathlessly. 

No, grandma; I would much rather see you a peaceful 
inmate of my household; but since you place before me the 
choice of yourself or her, then 1 can oiily say from the depths 
of my heart, ‘ Lieschen!^ 

He had spoken aloud, and the words had an honest, joyful 
ring in them. 

“ Very well,^^ answered she, “ I go; and though you were 
to fall on your knees before me, and all of you were to come 
together and entreat me to stay, I would go, nevertheless. It 
is shameful, it is an unheard of — 

In trembling haste she pulled at the bell-rope and began to 
open different drawers of her writing-desk. Letters, caskets, lit- 
tle boxes flew out in bewildering confusion. 

My traveling trunks, was her command to Sanna, who 
now came in; ‘‘ pack up my things! We are to travel!^^ 

At this moment a small shining object flew over the carpet 
and fell at Normaii^s feet; he picked it up and examined it — 
it was a little gold heart, scratched and tarnished, but upon it 
were engraved the initials ‘‘ L. -I.'^^ For a long while he gazed 
upon it in silence; it was impossible for him to utter a word; 
he only stepped up to her and held out to her the little orna- 
ment. She fastened her eyes upon it, then suddenly leaned 


176 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


for support upon the table top; all color vanished from her 
cheeks, and an ashy pallor overspread her features. Not a 
sound interrupted the stillness, only the little ornaments on 
the desk clinked slightly from the hard pressure upon it of the 
baronesses trembling form. 

I have no right to reproach you,^^ said he, finally, with- 
drawing the hand frhich held the little trinket; you are my 
father’s mother, and — it would be useless to. But 1 shall take 
double pains to make up to my betrothed for unmerited suffer- 
ing inflicted upon a charming and innocent young creature. 
God grant that 1 may succeed in this!” He turned to go out. 

Then Sanna obstructed his way. ‘‘ What would you have of 
my mistress?” she cried. I took that gold amulet from 
Baron Fritz; I alone did it; my signora is innocent. Drive 
me away, sir, but do not deprive her of a home — the only spot 
where she can lay her head!” The old servant had slidden to 
the ground and stretched out her hands to him in entreaty, 
while a tear glimmered in her cold gray eyes. 

I am not sending your mistress away,” said Norman, 
touched by the devotion of that cold, hard nature; on the 
contrary, I — ” 

Stand up!” ordered the infuriated baroness, ‘‘and do 
what I bade you; not another word. I am going this very 
day!” 

Miser icordia!’^ sobbed the old woman in her deadly 
agony, clutching at the folds of her mistress’s black robe, 
“ let me go with you. Signora Leonora! I shall die without 
you. ” 

He threw a painful glance across at the commanding form 
which stood there in the middle of the room, her head proudly 
thrown back; sharply and inimically those black orbs eyed him 
as though some foreign beggar stood before her whom she 
wished to forbid her presence. He had always so loved and 
admired his beautiful grandmother; even now, when that halo 
had disappeared with which his heart had once encircled her, 
even now that love remained victorious; he forgot her love of 
dominion and harshness; he only saw the proud and stately 
woman who had once lavished upon him idolizing tenderriess. 

“ Grandma!” he pleaded, drawing one step nearer her, “ let 
by-gones be by-gones! I offer you my hand; nothing shall re- 
mind you of the past — ” 

“ Go!” she indicated briefiy, waving him a farewell with 
her hand in her proiid and graceful manner; “go! 1 want to 
be alone; I have a great deal besides to settle.” 




A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 177 

He stepped up to her. Farewell!^" he said, and if home- 
sickness ever drives you hither, then come! You will — 

‘‘ Adieu!^^ said she, interrupting him, and withdrawing 
from his clasp the hand which he was about to carry to his 
lips, you have made your choice. 

Abruptly she turned her back upon him. . 

‘‘ Oh, that curse, that curse! 0 mio Dio sobbed the old 
waiting-maid, ^ho was still kneeling on the floor and wringing 
her hands. 

Fool!^^ he heard his grandmother say; and then the door 
fell to, to divide him and her forever. 


CHAPTEE XlXr 

The last day of the old year! Is there not something sadly 
solemn about it? A mood for bidding farewell it is that takes 
possession of the human heart, and a timid looking behind and 
questioning: What did the old year give us? How much did it 
take from us? And what will the new one bring: Joy or pain, 
happiness or desolation? 

There is a time when such questions are not asked, a time 
Vhen one believes that the future must grow brighter every 
day, when the garden of our dreams produces towering blos- 
soms in multitude, and when we await in blissful impatience 
the gathering of our full-blown treasures, to be entranced by 
the fairy-like wealth of their bloom; but time passes on, and 
bud after bud falls withered to the ground; only a few single 
ones come to perfection and tremble lest they also be nipped 
by a like rude blast as destroyed their sisters. And she who has 
seen such blossoms fall is the one to stand with sadly question- 
ing heart at the portals of a new year, and timidly fold her 
hands and ask involuntarily: What will the future bring to 
me? It is sad for a young heart to be led to ask itself these 
questions, for a frost in spring to lay low the promise of a 
whole garden full of bursting buds. 

It was toward four o^clock in the afternoon when restless- 
ness drove Lieschen to the castle. Norman and her father had 
already been gone four days, and she had received no tidings 
from him. And this was Sylvester^s-eve — a time that used to 
bring loved guests to the house — but this year father was 
from home, mother so quiet. Aunt Marian melancholy, and 
her dear minister and his family in deep mourning for their 
darling. And she — 

Once more she is treading the avenue to the castle, for she 
must ask if his mother or Nelly has heard from him. Her 


178 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


father letter had been so brief; he represented everything as 
being more involved than he had expected, and is undecided 
as to when he can come back — not a word for her from Kor- 
man! 

She positively must hear something from him to-day. As 
he walked along she looked through the bare arms of the trees, 
and up the avenue at the portal that loomed up in front of 
her. Heavy gray clouds hung low from the sky, and an un- 
seasonably warm breeze fanned her cheek. How uncannily 
gloomy looked that old castle by the fading light, how empty, 
how forsaken, a regular nest of ill-luck, as Aunt Marian said. 
How many years have come and gone over those old roofs, and 
how many yet are to come and go, and what will they bring? 
What is once lost comes back never more, and her loss had 
been so infinitely great: nothing less than the love of her whole 
youth! Of all its beauteous blossoms, naught but the thorns 
remained, that were still pricking her wounded heart; no 
sweet blessedness for her beside the man she loved, only a life 
of strict self-negation, only painful smiles, but no lover for 
her. And that was the reason she had gotten no letter. 

What should he write to her about? She remembered once 
to have seen her mother open a package of old letters with a 
complacent smile, letters that had been carefully preserved in 
a casket. “ Your father^s letters, she had said in reply to 
her daughter's questioning, during the time of our engage- 
ment. What blessedness had shone from her mother’s eyes 
at the reminiscence. Lieschen pressed her hand to her heart 
and quickened her pace. Now she emerged from the avenue 
and directed her steps across the open lawn. A carriage stood 
at the side entrancje. A carriage, how came a carriage here? 
Could Norman — ? But no, then father, too, would have come 
home. She shook her head as she walked around the vehicle; 
it was a miserable old box, most likely a hack from the vil- 
lage. She went into the castle, and suddenly paused in the 
corridor, for it seemed to her as though she heard voices and 
steps. In the long arched passage it was already growing 
dark, only upon the broad steps leading upstairs a pale light 
fell through the window of the staircase connecting with the 
great hall. Again she moved forward with hesitation. 

You would not have it otherwise,” she heard the some- 
what harsh voice of the old baroness say. Tears strike me as 
wholly superfluous at this late date, Cornelia.” 

At the same time Lieschen heard a rustling of dresses and 
light steps; on the uppermost stair the old baroness now made 
her appearance, half turning back to her daughter-in-law and 


179 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE^ 

Nelly. She was enveloped in a velvet cloak that must have 
been very handsome in its day, and her proud face looked 
forth with its wonted rigidity from a black lace shawl that she 
had thrown around her head. 

It is anxiety for you, mamma,^^ said the younger baroness, 
in this bad weather. And you are so unused to the discom- 
forts of travel. 

Travel? Was she to travel? For one moment Liescben^s 
heart experienced a keen sensation of joy. 

The necessary consequence of your course of action, Cor- 
nelia,^^ sounded once more. Meanwhile, take care of your- 
self. I am not so brittle a thing that I — 

It has come too soon, mamma, too soon.^V 
‘‘ Too soon? I have counted the minutes with impatience; 
I would much rather have set off that identical hour. 

It is inexpressibly hard for me to see you go with no good 
understanding between us. 

‘‘ I was the one who chiefly sought such an understanding, 
but I was persistently misunderstood. Think you that it is 
easy for me to go? I feel what is melancholy in this hour with 
full force, wretched as have been the days passed here. But . 
to ren^in, under the conditions imposed upon me by the f ut- . 
ure Lord of Lerenberg, to remain in order to lead such a life -as ; 
he offered me, at the price of sacrificing my principles to his; 
new-fangled unaristocratic notions — never! I am still of the^ 
old school. Noblesse oblige,^ ^ " 

“ She goes on my account,^^ whispered Lieschen. 

I believe Norman left in the assured hope of finding you 
here again, mamma, pleaded her daughter-in-law. 

The old lady suddenly laughed aloud. Dio cried she. 

He knows very well that he will not find me here any more; 
and it is good so. I do not want to see him again. He re- 
jects an offer that opens up to him a brilliant career — 

“I know, ^interrupted her daughter-in-law, ‘Hhat the 
duke— 

Not a word more!^^ interrupted the old baroness, complet- 
ing fully the descent of the staircase. 

‘‘ Stay quietly, baroness,^^ said a quivering voice just here, 
and Lieschen came out of the twilight gloom and bowed to 
her. “ Stay; it is not yet too late; if that is the case, then — 
then 1^11 give Norman back his freedom. 1 did not-know that 
there was any other way open for his deliverance.'’^ She 
ceased and mechanically grasped at the sloping baluster of the 
staircase. The dark form of the old lady before her shrunk 


180 A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 

back in horror; but Nelly, with one bound, was at the side of 
her brother's promised bride, and grasping her hand. 

What are you saying there, Lieschen?^^ she asked, what 
would you do?’^ 

‘‘ You should have considered that earlier, child, said the 
old lady, sharply, now your better judgment comes too late.'^^ 

“ I wanted to help, to save him,^^ answered Lieschen, spirit- 
lessly, “ but never would 1 have stood in the way of his happi- 
ness! Oh! assuredly it is not too late yet, baroness!^^ cried 
she, earnestly, as the old lady swept past her with an inimita- 
bly proud toss of her head. Stay until he comes, lady; tell 
him he need not feel himself bound to me! I shall myself 
release him, that hd may find eleswhere the happiness that I 
can not give him. He does not love me. Oh, stay, stay!^^ 

The old lady did not shake off those little trembling hands 
that had caught at the velvet of her cloak; she stood as though 
spell-bound and looked at the lovely, disordered countenance 
upturned toward her in the deepening gloom of evening. Her 
features did not alter; imt a trace of compassion for that 
agonized young creature was recognizable in her glowing eyes; 
not a word crossed her lips; she allowed her grief to spend 
itself up to the last drop. 

Then a quick, familiar footfall resounded through the hall, 
and down there upon the walk appeared a slender, manly 
form emerging from the gathering darkness. The maiden 
was gazing up at her with dry and burning eyes— he had come, 
too. Was he to find her here again? Must this hour be made 
yet harder for him? As though she would see nothing more, 
and that she might still be strong, she clapped her hands be- 
fore her face. 

‘‘ What is going on here?^^ came now to her ear in the 
tones of his voice, that sounded passionate and excited, “ my 
betrothed weeping?^^ 

His betrothed !^^ Ah! how that word cut her to the heart. 
Oh! that she were away from here, a thousand miles away, to 
escape from this torture! 

“ She is more rational than you are,^^ replied the old lady; 

once more you stand at the parting of the path, for she has 
already drawn back — 

“ Because you made it plausible to her?^^ ^ked he, angrily. 

‘^No, Norman,'’^ interrupted his mother, “Lieschen acci- 
dentally heard that grandma — 

“What did you hear, Lieschen?^^ he asked, throwing his 
arm around her and stooping down to her; and all at once how 
tender was the sound of his voice! She did not answer, but 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


181 


the tears rolled from her eyes now and flowed down through 
her slender fingers, with which she still covered her face. She 
did not see how anxiously he looked at her; she only felt again 
the excruciating anguish of having to leave him, felt that a life 
without love at his side would be a paradise compared with the 
emptiness that stared her in the face if she renounced him. 

“ Lieschen,^^ he pleaded, ‘‘so you could really be so — so 
rational, as grandma just now maintained?^^ 

She nodded. 

“ Yes, yes,^^ she sobbed, summoning up all her powers of 
self-control. “ I did not know that the duke would help you, 
else — ah! else I would never have come here to — I believed — 
I alone could save you.^^ 

“ That you can too,^^ said he, softly. “ You alone can do 
it; no one else in the whole wide world. 

He drew her hands from before her face and looked into her 
weeping eyes. 

“ Lieschen, if you knew how much I cared for you — 

She shook her head. 

“ Perpetually,^^ he continued, “have a pair of mournful 
blue eyes been haunting me, and a melancholy old tale of just 
such blue eyes having had their light extinguished by sorrow 
and heart troubles. I was thrilled with horror in thinking of 
this, and my anxiety and foreboding were not groundless, for 
I had well-nigh come too late — had I not?'^ 

“ No, no, Norman; it is pity on your side; you do not know 
what you are throwing away; a brillant existence, a proud 
career — let me be! -It is not yet too late,^^ anxiously she en- 
treated. 

“ You foolish child, 1 know very well what I am giving up, 
but I know too what I win instead — the best, noblest, and 
purest heart in the world. 

It was still now upon that old arched staircase, still and dark 
as well; a carriage was driving noisily over the stone pavement 
below. The last day of the year was gone; what will the new 
one bring? 


CHAPTEE XX. 

The earth was in the full glory of spring. The first tender 
green decorated trees and shrubs; in the Irving garden nar- 
cissus and lilacs were in bloom; the laburnum bent over the 
hedge, and the red thorn hung its boughs heavily laden beneath 
its burden of rosy splendor; but in the park the warm wind 
rocked the young leaves of the linden-trees and kissed every 


182 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


little blade of grass on the broad expanse of emerald-green sod, 
as though it would tell them of new pleasure and new life. 
And new pleasure and new life announced the water-jet as 
well, lliat ascended crystal clear from the old sandstone basin, 
to come down again gurgling and scattering in fine spray. As 
' once before in olden time, the portal stood wide open, its 
mighty wings widely outspread as though it knew that soon, in 
a few weeks, the happy lord of the castle was to lead his fair 
; young wife across the threshold of his paternal mansion. The 
'carpet of green moss had disappeared from the front stairway 
:and the two old bears looked wondrously defiant beneath their 
fgreat crowns of green oak leaves that some facetious hand had 
placed upon their venerable heads. 

The long rows of windows in the castle were open, only a few 
were closed by heavy curtains; these rooms needed not the 
spring sunshine, for their mistress was absent; she was gone, 
actually gone. Not an eyelash had quivered in that proud 
face, as on the last evening of the year she had got into that 
crazy old carriage which was to convey her from the place 
which had been her home for long years. Coldly and formally 
had her lips rested upon the brow of her daughter-in-law and 
grandchild, yet she knew that up there in that gloomy corridor 
at the last moment her grandson had secured for himself good 
fortune in contrast with whose luster every other paled, and 
that dazzled her eyes, and so she closed then those once ad- 
mired orbs, as she drove past the portal, and clinched her deli- 
cate hands, while Sauna bent sobbing from the carriage — gone, 
gone! What will the coming year bring her? 

And now the young master was expected home every day. 
He had been staying upon the estate of a friend in order to 
learn his calling without loss of time, and he prepared to un- 
dertake the management of his own property. Dp there in 
that little locked-up tower chamber stood Nelly with old 
'Henry; its two round windows were likewise wide open, and 
;the young lady was looking out over the park, and her glances 
were fixed upon the windows of the paper-mill now hashing in 
the sunlight, the whole place looking like a huge bouquet of 
flowers. 

Look, Henry,^^ she cried, now I know, too, why my 
brother wrote that we were to put in order this very little room 
for him. 

Oh, yes, here is a lovely view,^^ said the old man, with a 
knowing smile upon his furrowed old face. The baron will 
not want to move out if he once stays here.^^ 

But it is gloriously beautiful here!^^ exclaimed Nelly, sur- 


A TALE OF AH OLD CASTLE. 183 

veying the little round apartment. How comfortable! And 
the view!^^ 

Henry set straight two old-fashioned chairs for perhaps the 
hundredth time. And now, dear young lady, for the oaken 
garlands over the front door! Then he can come. Then all 
is read out and out. I should not have thought that I would 
ever live to see this day."^^ He stopped, and joyfully wagged his 
gray head. This is a wonderful world, young lady, very won- 
derful!^^ 

At the mill everything was apparently progressing as usual, 
only that its mistress had been absent for many weeks; she 
had traveled to Italy in company with the inspector's sick 
Bertha, but was soon to return, they said, well and strength- 
ened. 

But Aunt Marian was concerned about her darling, who she 
thought was much too quiet a bride. For half a day at a time 
would the maiden sit wrapped in reverie; best of all she liked 
to sit upstairs alone in her own room, leaving Aunt Marian to 
worry with the heavy rolls of linen that she brought forth 
from the old presses to be cut out and made up. ‘‘It is all 
one to her,'^ she muttered to herself, when her eyes surveyed 
that important part of the provision made for each household; 
“ she takes no interest in her outfit; poor child, she lacks so 
much, she does not know how it is to be loved as she should 
be.""^ Every evening, however, since the last one of the year 
her old hands had been uplifted in devout thanksgiving that 
the baroness had indeed departed. 

And again May had come, the earth was bathed in moon- 
light, and the air redolent of fragrance — and again the old lady 
sat at the window of her little room, with folded hands, and 
thought. Outside the water was again babbling its old melody 
— the forest, too, had something to murmur from time to time, 
and one of the maids was singing in the yard. 

But where is Lieschen?^^ asked she of herself. “ I won- 
der if he has written when he would come?^^ She stood up 
and tripped out of the room; the moonbeams playing upon the 
good old face and snow-white cap. “ Lieschen!^^ she called 
into the sitting-room; no answer; she recrossed the dark hall 
and went upstairs. “ She surely is not crying?^^ she thought. 
She looked into the young lady^s own cozy little room — not a 
trace of the one sought. Shaking her head, she drew back 
and instinctively directed her steps to another door; softly she 
opened this; the moonshine filled the little room, with a white 
and glittering radiance, and in this silvery light stood the 
pretty girlish figure motionless and looking out of the window. 


184 


A TALE OF AN OLD CASTLE. 


As though spell-bound, the old lady paused and looked across 
at that lovely, well-known picture. Had she gone back to 
the time of her youth? Was that Lisette again who stood 
there? 

He is coming!^* exulted a sweet voice; he is coming. I 
have seen his light. Lightly and gracefully had Lieschen 
slipped past the old lady, and then vanished like a lovely 
wraith. 

And very true, there was a light glimmering in the tower 
chamber. The old lady had to lean heavily for support upon 
the little table at the window and gazed out; the dream of her 
youth was being renewed. Holy Father!^^ said she, softly, 
clasping her hands together, do I dream, do I dream?^^ 

And then an impulse drove her down-stairs. With linger- 
ing steps she left the house; the garden lay white in the moon- 
light, and she was greeted by the intoxicating breath of sweetest 
flowers; as of old, in the far-off time of her youth, she wan- 
dered on; the nightingales sung so naturally; and from the 
other side of the way sounded across in trembling tones the 
monotonous concert of the frogs. Now she came to the 
graveled square in front of the arbor — actually there was whis- 
pering inside; lightly she tipped up and drew the branches 
aside, there they sat side by side on the bench; she had her 
arm around his neck and her face hidden against his breast, 
while again and again he kissed her brown hair and called her 
by every endearing epithet. And now she lifted up her face, and 
in the bright moonbeam that fell athwart it the old lady saw 
a pair of large blue eyes lighted up now with an expression of 
purest bliss. 

Cautiously she let the branch drop and retired; she had seen 
enough. Softly, softly she retraced her way, now and then 
wiping her eyes upon the corner of her apron. It was quite 
dark under the deep shade of the linden-trees in front of the 
house-door; she seated herself upon the sandstone bench and 
looked toward the garden with folded hands while her aged 
lips uttered a fervent thanksgiving. What she had hardly 
dared to hope for had become a reality. 

From the other side of the water a fresh female voice chimed 
in with all the harmonies of spring; a white dress glistened in 
the moonlight; nearer and nearer came the song, and plainly 
sounded each word in the ear of the old lady; 

“ Like springtime love draws softly near 
And mystic joy discloses. 

At her light touch dry branches bear 
The loveliest, brightest roses. 


A TALE OF AK OLD CASTLE. 


185 


** She wakens sweetest meloriy 

In hearts where hope had perished, 

For dreamed they ne’er that life for them 
A May and roses cherished.’^ 

‘‘ Lieschen! Norman she then called over into the quiet 
garden, as she stood under the linden- trees/ ^ where are you?^^ 

No answer, only the nightingale sung on. Let them 
alone, Nelly, said an aged voice at her side, and a hand drew 
her down upon the bench; leave them to enjoy their May! 
They met with so many storms before their roses could 
bloom. 

And the moonlight trembled upon the tops of the trees; the 
water rippled, and God keep fresh for them their roses and 
May!^^ whispered Aunt Marian, once more, their roses and 
May!^^ 


THE END. 


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119 Monica, and A Rose Distill’d. 

By “The Duchess” 10 

120 Tom Brown’s School Days at 

Rugby. By Thomas Hughes. 20 

121 Maid of Athens. By Justin 

McCarthy 20 

122 lone Stewart. By Mrs. E. Lynn 

Linton 20 

123 Sweet is True Love. By “ The 

Duchess ” 10 

124 Three Feathers. By Wm. Black 20 

125 Monarch of Mincing Lane, The. 

By William Black 20 

126 Kilmen.y. By William Black.. 20 

127 Adrian Bright. By Mrs. Caddy 20 

128 Afternoon, and Other Sketches. 

By “Ouida” 10 

129 Rossmoyne. By “The Duchess” 10 

130 Last of the Barons, The, By Sir 

E. Bulwer Lytton. 1st halfr. 20 

130 Last of the Barons, The. By Sir 

E. Bulwer Lytton. 2d half,. 20 

131 Our Mutual Friend. By Charles 


Dickens. First half 20 

:.31 Our Mutual Friend. By Charles 
Dickens. Second half 20 

132 Master Humphrey’s Clock. By 

Charles Dickens 10 

133 Peter the Whaler. By William 

H. G. Kingston 10 


134 Witching Hour, The, and Other 

Stories. By “ The Duchess ”. 10 

135 Great Heiress, A : A Fortune in 

Seven Checks. By R. E. Fran- 


cillon 10 

136 “That Last Rehearsal,” and 
Other Stories. By “The 
Duchess " . . 10 


187 Uncle Jack. By Walter Besant 10 

138 Green Pastures and Piccadilly. 

By Wm. Black 20 

139 Romantic Adventures of a Milk 

maid. The. By Thomas Hardy 10 

140 Glorious Fortune, A. By Wal- 

ter Besant 10 

141 She Loved Him! By Annie 

Thomas 10 

142 Jenifer. By Annie Thomas 20 

143 One False, Both Fair. By John 

B. Harwood 20 

144 Promises of Marriage. By Emile 

Gaboriau ’. 10 

145 “Storm-Beaten:” God and The 

Man. By Robert Buchanan. 20 

146 Love Finds the Way, and Other 

Stories. By Walter Besant- 


and James Rice 10 

147 Rachel Ray. By Anthony Troll- 

ope 20 

148 Thorns and Orange-Blossoms. 

By Charlotte M. Braeme, au- 
thor of “Dora Thorne” 10 

149 Captain’s Daughter, The. From 

the Russian of Pushkin 10 

150 For Himself Alone. By T. W. 

Speight 10 

151 Ducie Diamonds. The. By C. 

Blatherwick 10 

152 Uncommercial Traveler, The. 

By Charles Dickens 20 

153 Golden Calf, The. By Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

154 Annan Water. By Robert Buch- 

anan 20 

155 Lady Muriel’s Secret. By Jean 

Middlemas 2C 

156 “ For a Dream’s Sake.” By Mrs. 

Herbert Martin 20 

157 Milly’sHero. By F. W. Robinson 20 

158 Starling, The. By Norman 

Macleod, D.D 10 

159 Captain Norton’s Diary, and 

A Moment of Madness. By 
Florence Marryat 10 

160 Her Gentle Deeds. By Sarah 

Tytler 10 

161 Lady of Lyons, The. Founded 

on the Play of that title by 
Lord Lytton 10 

162 Eugene Aram. By Sir E. Bulwer 

Lytton 20 

163 Winifred Power. By Joyce Dar- 

rell 20 

164 Leila ; or. The Siege of Grenada. 

By Bulwer Lytton 10 

165 History of Henry Esmond, The. 

By William M. Thackeray. . . 90 

166 Moonshine and Marguerites. 

By “The Duchess” 10 

167 Heart and Science. By Wilkie 

Collins f¥) 

168 No Thorouglifare. By Dickens 

and Collins 10 

169 Haunted Man, The. By Charle? 

Dickens 10 

170 A Great Treason. By Mai**^ 

Hoppus. First half tO 


4 


THE SEASIDE LIHRxlRI^ — Pocket Edition, 


170 A Great Treason. By Mary 

Hoppus. Seirond half 20 

171 Fortune’s Wheel. By “The 

Duchess ’’ 10 

172 “ Golden Girls.” By Alan Muir 20 

173 Foreig:ners, The. By Eleanor C. 

Price 20 

174 Under a Ban. By Mrs. Lod^e. 20 

175 Love’s Random Shot. By Wilkie 

Collins 10 

176 An April Day. By Philippa Prit- 

tie Jeplison 10 

177 Salem Chapel. By Mrs. Oliphant 20 

178 More Leaves from the Journal 

of a Life in the Highlands. 

By Queen Victoria 10 

179 Little Make-Believe. By B. L. 

Farjeon ’. 10 

180 Round the Galley Fire. B 3 ’' W’. 

Clark Russell 10 

181 New Abelard, The. By Robert 

Buchanan 10 

182 Millionaire, The 20 

183 Old Contrairy, and Other Sto- 

ries, By Florence Marryat.. 10 

184 Thirlby Hall. By W. E. Norris 20 

185 Dita. By Lady Margaret Ma- 

jendie 10 

186 Canon’s Ward, The. By James 

Payn 20 

187 MidilightSun,The. ByFredrika 

Bremer 10 

188 Idonea. By Anne Beale 20 

189 Valerie’s Fate. By Mrs. Alex- 

ander 10 

190 Romance of a Black Veil. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
ot “Dora Thorne” 10 

191 Harry Lorrequer. By Charles 

Lever 20 

192 At the V^orld’s Mercy. By F. 

Warden 10 

193 Rosery Folk, The. By G. Man- 

ville Fenn 10 

194 “So Near, and Yet So Far!” 

By Alison 10 

195 “ Way of the World, The.” By 

David Christie Murray 20 

196 Hidden Perils. Mary Cecil Hay 20 

197 For Her Dear Sake. By Mary 

Cecil Hay 20 

198 Husband’s Storj’, A 10 

199 Fisher Village, The. By Anne 

Beale 10 

200 An Old Man’s Love. By Anthony 

Trollope 10 

201 Monastery, The. By Sir Walter 

Scott 20 

202 Abbot, The. Sequel to “ The 

Monastery.” By Sir Walter 
Scott 20 

203 John Bull and His Island. By 

MaxO’Rell 10 

204 Vixen. B.y Bliss BT. E. Braddon 20 

205 Minister’s Wife, The. By BIrs. 

Oliphant 30 

206 Picture, The, and Jack of All 

Trades. By Charles Reade. . . 10 


207 Pretty Bliss Neville. By B. M. 

Croker 

208 Ghost of Charlotte Cray, The, 

and Other Stories. By Flor- 
ence Blarryat 10 

209 John Holdswortii, Chief Blate. 

By W. Clark Russell 10 

210 Readiana: Comments on Cur- 
^I’ont Events. By Chas. Reade 10 

211 Octoroon, The. By Bliss BI. E. 

Braddon lo 

212 Charles O’BIalle^’’, the Irish 

Dragoon. By Charles Lever. 
First half 

212 Charles O’Bialle)^ the Irish 

Dragoon. By Charles Lever. 
Second half go 

213 Terrible Temptation, A. By 

Ciias. Reade 20 

214 Put Yourself in His Place. By 

Charles Reade 2f 


215 Not Like Other Girls. B 3 " Rosa 

Nouchette Carey. . 

216 Foul Play. By Charles Reade. 

217 Man Siie Cared For, The. By 

F. W. Robinson 

218 Agnes Sorel. By G. P. R. James 

219 Lady Clare.; or. Tne Blaster of 

the Forges From the French 
of Georges Ohnet 

220 Which Loved Him 7Iest? By 

Charlotte BI. Braeriie, author 
of “ Dora Thorne ” 

221 Coinin’ Thro’ the Rye. By Helen 

B. Blathers 

222 Sun-BIaid, The. By Bliss Grant 

223 Sailor’s Sweetheart, A. By W. 

Clark Russell 

224 Arundel Motto, The. By Mary 

Cecil Hay 

225 Giant’s Robe, The. By F. Anstey 

226 Friendship. By “Ouida” 

227 Nancy. By Rhoda Broughton . 

228 Princess Napraxine. “Ouida” 

229 Blaid, Wife, or Widow? By 

BIrs. Alexander 

230 Dorothy Forster. By Walter 

Besant 

231 Griffith Gaunt; or. Jealousy. 

By Charles Reade 

232 Love and Bloney; or, A Peril- 

ous Secret. Bj- Chas. Reade. 

233 “ I Say No;” or. The Love-Let- 

ter Answered. By Wilkie Col- 
lins 

234 Barbara; or. Splendid Blisery. 

By Miss BI. E. Braddon 

235 “ It is Never Too Late to Mend.” 

By Charles Reade 

236 Which Shall It Be? By BIrs. 

Alexander 

237 Repented at Leisure. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“Dora Thorne” 

238 Pascarel. By “Ouida” 

239 Signa. By “Ouida” 

240 Called Back. By Hugh Conway 1( 

241 Baby’s Grandmother, The. By 

L.‘ B. Walford...... l< 




ITEE SEASIDE LIBRARY—Pocket Editioit. » 


243 Two Orphans, The. By D’En- 

nery 10 

243 Tom Burke of “ Ours.” By 
Charles Lever. First half. .‘. 20 

243 Tom Burke of “Ours.” By 

Charles Lever. Second half. 20 

244 Great Mistake, A. By the author 

of “Cherry” 20 

245 Miss Tommy. By Miss Mulock 10 

246 Fatal Dower, A. By the Author 

of “ His Wedded Wife” 20 


247 Armoui-er’s Prentices, The. By 

Charlotte M. Yong:e 10 

248 House on the Marsh, The. By 

F. Warden 10 

249 “Prince Charlie’s Daughter.” 

By Charlotte M. Braeme, au- 
thor of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 

250 Sunshine and Roses ; or, Diana’s 

Discipline. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of “Dora 
Thorne ” 10 

251 Daughter of the Stars, The, and 

Other Tales. By Hugh Con- 
way. author of “ Called 
Back ” 10 

252 Sinless Secret, A. By “ Rita ” 10 

253 Amazon, The. By Carl Vosrnaer 10 

254 Wife’s Secret, The, and Fair but 

False. Charlotte M. Brae .me, 
author of “ Dora Thorne ”... 10 

255 Mvstery, The. By Mrs. Henry 

Wood 20 

256 Mr. Smith : A Part of His Life. 

By L. B. Walford 20 

257 Beyond Recall. By Adeline Ser- 

geant 10 

258 Cousins. By L. B. Walford .... 20 

259 Bride of Monte-Cristo, The. A 

Sequel to “ The Count of 
Monte-Cristo.” By Alexan- 
der Dumas 10 

260 Proper Pride. By B. M. Croker 10 

261 Fair Maid, A. By F. W. Robin- 

son 20 

262 Count of Monte-Cristo, The. 

By Alexander Dumas. Part I 30 

262 Count of Monte-Cristo, The. 

By Alexander Dumas. Part II 30 

263 An Ishmaelite. By Miss M. E. 

Braddon 20 

264 Pi6douche, a French Detective. 

By Fortune Du Boisgobey... 10 

265 Judith Shakespeare: Her Love 

Affairs and Other Advent- 
ures. By William Black 20 

266 Water-Babies, The. A Fairy 

Tale for a Land-Baby. By the 
Rev. Charles Kingsley 10 

267 Laurel Vane; or. The Girls’ 

Conspiracy. By Mrs. Alex. 

McVeigh Miller 20 

26<S Lady Gay’s Pride; or. The Mi- 
ser’s Treasure. By Mrs. Alex. 
McVeigh Miller 20 

269 Lancaster’s Choice. By Mrs. 

Alex. McVeigh Miller 20 

270 Wandering Jew, The. By Eu- 

gene Sue. Part 1 30 


270 Wandering Jew, The. By Eu- 

gene Sue. Part II 30 

271 Mysteries of Paris, The. By Eu- 

gene Sue. Parti 30 

271 Mysteries of Paris, The. By Eu- 

gene Sue. Part II 30 

272 Little Savage, The. By Captain 

Marryat 10 

273 Love and Mirage; or. The Wait- 

ing on an Island. By M. 
Betham-Ed wards 10 

274 Alice, Grand Duchess of Hesse, 

Princess of Great Britain and 
Ireland. Biographical Sketch 
and Letters 10 

275 Three Brides, The. By Char- 

lotte M. Yonge 10 

276 Under the Lilies and Roses. 

By Florence Marryat (Mrs. 
Francis Lean) 10 

277 Surgeon’s Daughters, The, by 


Mrs. Henry Wood. A Man of 
His Word, by W. E. Norris... 10 

278 For Life and Love. By Alison. 10 

279 RattHn, the Reefer. By Captain 

Marryat 20 

280 Omnia Vanitas. A Tale of So- 

ciety. By Mrs. Forrester — 10 

281 Squire’s Legacy, The. By Mary 

Cecil Hay 20 

282 Donal Grant. By George Mac- 

Donald 20 

283 Sin of a Lifetime, The. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 

284 Doris. By “ The Duchess ” — 10 

285 Gambler’s Wife, The 20 

286 Deldee; or. The Iron Hand. By 

F. Warden 30 

287 At War With Herself. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 

“Dora Thorne” 10 

923 At War With Herself. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme. (Large type 
edition) 20 

288 From Gloom to Sunlight; or 

From Out the Gloom. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme, author 

of “Dora Thorne” 10 

955 From Gloom to Stmlight; or, 
From Out the Gloom. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme. (Large 
type edition) 20 

289 John Bull’s Neighbor in Her 

True Light. By a “Brutal 
Saxon” 10 

290 Nora’s Love Test. By Mary 

Cecil Hay 20 

291 Love’s Warfare. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of “Dora 
Thorne ” 10 

292 Golden Heart, A. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of “Dora 
Thorne” IG 

293 Shadow of a Sin, The. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“Dora Thorne” 10 


THE SEASIDE LIBTi AH Y— Pocket Edition. 


948 Shadow of a Sin, The. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme. (Large type 

edition) 20 

294 Hilda; or, The False Vow. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme 10 

294 Lady Hutton’s Ward. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme 10 

928 Hilda; or. The False Vow. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme. (Large 

type) 20 

928 Lady Hutton’s Ward. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme. (Large type) 20 

295 Woman’s War, A. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme .* 10 

952 Woman’s War, A. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme. (Large type 
edition) 20 

296 Rose in Thorns, A. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“Dora Thorne” 10 

297 Hilary’s Folly; or. Her Mar- 

riage Vow. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of “Dora 
Thorne” 10 

953 Hilary’s Folly; or, Her Mar- 

riage Vow. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme. (Large type edition) 20 

298 Mitchelhiirst Place. By Marga- 

ret Veley 10 

299 Fatal Lilies, The. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne” 10 

300 A Gilded Sin, and A Bridge of 

Love. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of “Dora 
Thorne ” 10 

301 Dark Days. By Hugh Conway 10 

302 Blatchford Bequest, The. By 

Hugh Conway , author of 
“Called Back” 10 

303 Ingledew House. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of “Dora 
Thorne” 10 

304 In Cupid’s Net. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne” 10 

305 Dead Heart, A. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 

Thorne” 10 

300 Golden Dawn, A. By Charlotte 
M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne” 10 

307 Two Kisses. By Charlotte M. 

Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne” 10 

308 Beyond Pardon. C. M. Braeme 20 

309 Pathfinder, The. By J. Feni- 

more Cooper 20 

310 Prairie. The. By J. Fenimore 

Cooper 20 

311 Two Years Before the Mast. 

By R. H. Dana, Jr 20 

312 Week in Killarney, A. By “ The 

Duchess” 10 

313 Lover’s Creed, The, By Mrs. 

Cashel-Hoey 20 

314 Peril. By Jessie Fothergill ... 20 
815 Mistletoe Bough, Tlie. Edited 

by Miss M. E. Braddon 20 


316 Sworn to Silence; or. Aline 


Rodney’s Secret. By Mrs. 
Alex, McVeigh Miller 20 

317 By Blead and Stream. By Chas. 

Gibbon 20 

318 Pioneers, The ; or. The Sources 

of the Susquehanna. By J. 
Fenimore Cooper 20 

319 Face to Face : A Fact in Seven 

Fables. By R. E. Francillon. 10 

320 Bit of Human Natui-e, A. By 

David Christie Murray 10 

321 Prodigals, The: And Their In- 

heritance. By Mrs. Oliphant. 10 

322 Woman’s Love-Story, A. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 

323 Willful Maid, A. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne” 20 

324 In Luck at Last. By Walter 

Besant 10 

325 Portent, The. By (George Mac- 

donald 10 

326 Phantasies. A Faerie Romance 

for Men and Women. By 
George Macdonald 10 

327 Raymond’s Atonement. (From 

the German of E. Werner.) 

By Christina Tyrrell 20 

328 Babiole, the Pretty Milliner. 

(Translated from the French 
of Fortune Du Boisgobey.) 

First half 20 

828 Babiole, the Pretty Milliner. 
(Translated from the French 
of Fortune Du Boisgobey.) 
Second half 20 

329 Polish Jew, The. (Translated 

from the French by Caroline 
A. Merighi.) By Erckmann- 
Chatrian 10 

330 May Blossom : or, Between Two 

Loves. B}^ Margaret Lee. ... 20 

331 Gerald. By Eleanor C. Price.. 20 

332 Judith Wynne. By author of 

“Lady Lovelace ” 20 


333 Frank Fairlegh; or. Scenes 

From the Life of a Private 
Pupil. By Frank E. Smedley 20 

334 Marriage of Convenience, A. 


By Harriett Jay 10 

335 White Witch, 3'he. A Novel... 20 

336 Philistia. By Cecil Power 20 


337 Memoirs and Resolutions of 

Adam Graeme of Mossgray, 
including some Chronicles of 
the Borough of Fendie. By 
Mrs. Oliphant 20 

338 Family Difficult 3 ’’, The. By Sa- 

rah Doudhey 10 

339 Mrs. Vereker’s Courier Maid. 

By IMrs. Alexander 10 

340 Under Which King? By Comp- 

ton Reade 20 

341 Madolin Rivers: or. The Little 

Beauty of Red Oak Seminary. 

By Laura Jean Libbey. - 20 

342 Baby, The. By “ The Duchess ” 10 


TETE SEASIDE LIBKARY — Pocket Edition. 


7 


a43 Talk of the Town, The. By 
James Payn 20 

344 “Wearing of the Green, The.” 

By Basfl 20 

345 Madam. By Mrs. Oliphant 20 

346 Tumbledown Farm. By Alan 

Muir ' 10 

347 As Avon Flows. By Henry Scott 

Vince 20 

348 From Post to Finish. A Racing 

Romance. By Hawley Smart 20 

349 Two Admirals, The. A Tale of 

the Sea. By J. Fenimore 
Cooper 20 

350 Diana of the Crossways^^ By 

George Meredith 10 

351 House on the Moor, The. By 

Mrs. Oliphant 20 

352 At Any Cost. By Edw. Garrett 10 

353 Black Dwarf, The. By Sir 

Walter Scott 20 

354 Lottery of Life, The. A Story 

of New York Twenty Years 
Ago. By John Brougham... 20 

355 That Terrible Man. By W. E. 

Norris 10 

356 Good Hater, A. By Frederick 

Boyle 20 

357 John. By Mrs. Oliphant 20 

358 Within the Clasp. By J. Ber- 

wick Harwood 20 

359 Water-Witch, The. By J. Feni- 

more Cooper 20 

360 Ropes of Sand. By R. E. Francil- 

lon 20 

361 Red Rover, The. A Tale of the 

Sea. By J. Fenimore Cooper 20 

362 Bride of Lammermoor, The. 

By Sir Walter Scott 20 

363 Surgeon’s Daughter, The. By 

Sir Walter Scott 10 

364 Castle Dangerous. By Sir Wal- 

ter Scott 10 

865 George Christy; or. The Fort- 
unes of a Minstrel. By Tony 
Pastor 20 

366 Mysterious Hunter, The; or. 

The Man of Death. By Capt. 

L. C. Carleton 20 

367 Tie and Trick. By Hawley Smart 20 

368 Southern Star, The ; or. The Dia- 

mond Land. By Jules Verne 20 

369 Miss Bretherton. By Mrs. Hum- 

phry Ward 10 

870 Lucy Crofton. By Mrs. Oliphant 10 

371 Margaret Maitland. By Mrs. 

Oliphant 20 

372 Phyllis’ Probation. By the au- 

thor of “ His Wedded Wife ”. 10 

373 Wing-and-Wing. By J. Feni- 

more Cooper.. 20 

374 Dead Man’s Secret, The ; or. The 

Adventures of a Medical Stu- 
dent. By Dr. Jupiter Paeon. . 20 

375 Ride to Khiva, A. By Captain 

Fred Burnaby, of the Royal 
• Horse Guards 20 


Crime of Christmas Day, The. 

"RTr nnfVirvi* “ ATxr Tkii/xofc* 


and My Daughter ” 10 

Magdalen Hepburn : A Story of 
the Scottish Reformation. By 

Mrs. Oliphant 20 

Homeward Bound; or. The 

Chase. By J. F. Cooper 20 

Home as Found. (Sequel to 
“ Homeward Bound.”) By J. 

Fenimore Cooper 20 

Wyandotte; or, The Hutted 
Knoll. By J. Fenimore Cooper 20 
Red Cardinal, Tlie. By E’rances 

Elliot 10 

Three Sisters; or. Sketches of 
a Highly Original Family. 

By Elsa D’Esterre-Keeling.. . 10 
Introduced to Society. By Ham- 
ilton Aid6 10 

On Horseback Through Asia 
Minor. By Captain Fred Bur- 
naby 20 

Headsman, The; or. The Ab- 
baye'des Vignerons. By J. 

Fenimore Cooper 20 

Led Astray; or, “La Petite 
Comtesse.” Octave Feuillet. 10 
Secret of the Cliffs, The. By 

Charlotte French 20 

Addie’s Husband ; or. Through 
Clouds to Sunshine. By the 
author of “ Love or Lands?”. 10 
Ichabod. A Portrait. By Bertha 

Thomas 10 

Mildred Trevanion. By “The 

Duchess ” 10 

Heart of Mid-Lothian, The. By 

Sir Walter Scott 20 

Peveril of the Peak. By Sir 

WAlter Scott 20 

Pirate, The. By Sir Walter Scott 20 
Bravo, The. By J. Fenimore 

Cooper 20 

Archipelago on Fire, The. By 

Jules Verne 10 

Robert Ord’s Atonement. By 

Rosa Notichette Carey 20 

Lionel Liqcoln : or, The Leaguer 
of Boston. By J. Fenimore 

Cooper 20 

Matt: A Tale of a Caravan. 

By Robert Buchanan 10 

Miss Brown. By Vernon Lee.. 20 
Wept of Wish-Ton-Wish, The. 

By J. Fenimore Cooper 20 

Waverle 3 \ By Sir Walter Scott 20 
Lilliesleaf ; or. Passages in the 
Life of Mrs. Margaret Mait- 
land of Sunnyside. By Mrs. 

Olmhant 20 

An English Squire. By C. R. 

Coleridge 20 

In Durance Vile, and Other 
Stories. By “ The Duchess ” 10 
My Friends and I. Edited by 

Julian Sturgis 10 

Merchant’s Clerk, The. By Sam- 
uel Warren 10 


376 

377 

378 

379 

380 

381 

382 

383 

384 

385 

386 

387 

388 

389 

390 

391 

392 

393 

394 

395 

396 

397 

398 

390 

400 

401 

402 

403 

404 

405 

406 


8 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY— Pocket Edition. 


407 Tylney Hall. By Thomas Hood 

408 Lester’s Secret. By Mary Cecil 

Hay 

409 Roy’s Wife. By G. J. Whyte- 

Melville 

410 Old Lady Mary. By Mrs. Oli- 

phant 

411 Bitter Atonement, A. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“ Dora Thorne ” 

412 Some One Else. By B. M. Croker 

413 Afloat and Ashore. By J. Fen- 

imore Cooper 

414 Miles Wallingford. (Sequel to 

“ Afloat and Ashore.”) By J. 
Fenimore Cooper 

415 Ways of the Hour, The. By J. 

Fenimore Cooper 

416 Jack Tier ; or. The Florida Reef. 

By J. Fenimore Cooper 

417 Fair Maid of Perth, The; or, 

St. Valentine’s Day. By Sir 

418 St. Ronan’s Weii.‘ By Sir Walter 

Scott 

419 Chainbearer, The; or. The Lit- 

tlepage Manuscripts. By J. 
Fenimore Cooper 

420 Satanstoe; or, The Littlepage 

Manuscripts. By J. Fenimore 
Cooper 

421 Redskins, The; or, Indian and 

Injin. Being the conclusion 
of the Littlepage Manuscripts. 
By J. Fenimore Cooper 

422 Precaution. By J. Fenimore 

Cooper 

423 Sea Lions, The; or, The Lost 

Sealers. By J. F. Cooper — 

424 Mercedes of Castile; or, Tne 

Voyage to Cathay. By J. Fen- 
imore Cooper 

425 Oak-Openings, The; or, The 

Bee-Hunter. By J. Fenimore 
Cooper 

426 Venus's Doves. By Ida Ash- 

worth Taylor 

427 Remarkable History of Sir 

Thomas Upmore, Bart., M.P., 
The. Formerly known as 
“ Tommy Upmore.” By R. 
D. Blackmore 

428 Z6ro: A Story of Monte-Carlo. 

By Mrs. Campbell-Praed 

•129 Boulderstone ; or. New Men and 
Old Populations. By W. Sime 

430 Bitter Reckoning, A. By the au- 

thor of “By Crooked Paths ” 

431 Monikins, The. By J. Fenimore 

Cooper . . . # 

432 Witch’s Head, The. By H. 

Rider Haggai-d 

433 My Sister l^te. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne ” 

434 Wyllard’s Weird. By Miss M. E. 

Braddon 

435 Klytia : A Story of Heidelberg 

Castle. By George Taylor. . . 


436 Stella. By Fanny Lewald 20 

437 Life and Adventures of Martin 

Chuzzlewit. By Charles Dick- 
ens. First half 20 

437 Life and Adventures of Martin 

Chuzzlewit. By Charles Dick- 
ens. Second half 20 

438 Found Out. By Helen B. 

Mathers 10 

439 Great Expectations. By Charles 

Dickens 20 

440 Mrs. Lirriper’s Lodgings. By 

Charles Dickens 10 

441 Sea Change, A. By Flora L. 

Shaw 20 

442 Ranthorpe. By George Henry 

Lewes 20 

443 Bachelor of the Albany, The. . . 10 

444 Heart of Jane Warner^ The. By 

Florence Marryat 20 

445 Shadow of a Crime, The. By 

Hall Caine 20 

446 Dame Durden. By “Rita”... 20 

447 American Notes. By Charles 

Dickens 20 

448 Pictures From Italy, and The 

Mudfog Papers, &c. By Chas. 
Dickens 20 

449 Peeress and Player. By Flor- 

ence Marryat 20 

450 Godfrey Helstone. By Georgi- 

ana M. Craik. 20 

451 Market Harborough, and Inside 

the Bar. G. J. Whyte-Melville 20 

452 In the West Oountrie. By May 

Crommelin 20 

453 Lottery Ticket, The. By F. Du 

Boisgobey 20 

454 Mystery of Edwin Drood, The. 

By Chas. Dickens 20 

455 Lazarus in London. By F. W. 

Robinson 20 

456 Sketches by Boz. Illustrative 

of Every-day Life and Every- 
day People. By Charles Dick- 
ens 20 

457 Russians at the Gates of Herat, 

The. By Charles Marvin. ... 10 

458 Week of Passion, A; or. The 

Dilemma of Mr. George Bar- 
ton the Younger. By Edward 
Jenkins 20 

459 Woman's Temptation, A. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme. (Large 

type edition) 20 

951 Woman’s Temptation, A. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 

460 Under a Shadow. By Char- 

Jotte M. Braeme, author of 
“ Dora Thorne ” 20 

461 His Wedded Wife. By author 

of “ A Fatal Dower ” 20 

462 Alice’s Adventures in Wonder- 

land. By Lewis Carroll. With 
forty - two illustrations by 
John Tenniel 20 

463 Redgauntlet. By Sir Walter 

Scott 


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THE SEASIDE LIBKAHY— Pocket Edition. 


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464 Newcomes, The. By William 
Makepeace Thackeray. Part 

I 20 

464 Newcomes, The. By William 

Makepeace Thackeray. Part 

II 20 

466 Earl’s Atonementr The. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “ Dora Thorne ” 20 

466 Between Two Loves. By Char- 

lotte M, Braeme, author of 
“Dora Thorne” 20 

467 Struggle for a Ring, A. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“ Dora Thorne ” 20 

468 Fortunes, Good and Bad, of a 

Sewing-Girl, The. By Char- 
lotte M. Stanley 10 

469 Lady Darner’s Secret; or, A 

Guiding Star. By Charlotte 
M. Braeme, author of “Dora 
Thorne” 20 

470 Evelyn’s Folly. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne” 20 

471 Thrown on the World. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“Dora Thorne” 20 

472 Wis® Women of Inverness, 

The. By Wm. Black 10 

473 Lost Son, A. By Mary Linskill. 10 

474 Serapis. By George Ebers 20 

475 Prima Donna’s Husband, The. 20 

By F. Du Boisgobey 

476 Between Two Sins; or, Married 

in Haste. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of “Dora 
Thorne ” 10 

477 Affinities. A Romance of To- 

day. By Mrs. Campbell-Praed 10 

478 Diavola; or. Nobody’s Daugh- 

ter. By Miss M. E, Braddon. 
Part 1 20 

478 Diavola; or. Nobody’s Daugh- 

ter. By Miss M. E. Braddon. 
Partll 20 

479 Louisa. By Katharine S. Mac- 

quoid 20 

480 Married in Haste. Edited by 

Miss M. E. Braddon 20 

481 House That Jack Built, The. 

By Alison 10 

482 Vagrant Wife, A. By F. Warden 20 
4S3 Betwixt My Love and Me. By 

the author of “A Golden Bar ” 10 

484 Although He Was a Lord, and 

Other Tales. Mrs. Forrester. 10 

485 Tinted Vapours. By J. Maclaren 

Cobban 10 

486 Dick’s Sweetheart. By “ The 

. Duchess ” 20 

487 Put to the Test. Edited by 

Miss M. E. Braddon 20 

488 Joshua Haggard’s Daughter. 

By Miss M. E. Braddon 20 

489 Rupert Godwin. By Miss M. E. 

Braddon 20 

490 Second Life, A. By Mrs. Alex- 

ander 20 


491 Society in London. By a For- 

eign Resident 10 

492 Mignon ; or. Booties’ Baby. By 

J. S. Winter. Illustrated 10 

493 Colonel Enderby’s Wife. By 

Lucas Malet. .• 20 

494 Maiden All Forlorn, A, and Bar- 

bara. By “ The Duchess ”... 10 

495 Mount Royal. By Miss M. E. 

Braddon 20 

496 Only a Woman. Edited by Miss 

M. E. Braddon 20 

497 Lady’s Mile, The. By Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

498 Only a Clod. By Miss M. E. 

Braddon 20 

499 Cloven Foot, The. By Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

500 Adrian Vidal. By W. E. Norris 20 

501 Mr. Butler’s Ward. By F. Mabel 

Robinson 20 

502 Carriston’s Gift. By Hugh 

Conway, author of “Called 
Back” 10 

503 Tinted Venus, The. By F.Anstey 10 

504 Curly; An Actor’s Story. By 
John Coleman. Illustrated. 10 

505 Society of London, The. By 

Count Paul Vasili 10 

506 Lady Lovelace. By the author 

of “Judith Wynne” 20 

507 Chronicles of the Canongate, 

and Other Stories. By Sir 
Walter Scott 10 

508 Unholy Wish, The. By Mrs. 

Henry Wood 10 

509 Nell Haffenden. By Tighe Hop- 

kins 20 

510 Mad Love, A. By the author of 

“Lover and Lord” 10 

511 Strange World, A. By Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

512 Waters of Hercules, The 20 

513 Helen Whitney’s Wedding, and 

Other Tales. By Mrs. Henry 
Wood.. 10 

514 Mystery of Jessy Page, The, 

and Other Tales. By Mrs. 
Henry Wood 10 

515 Sir Jasper’s Tenant. By Miss 

M. E. Braddon 20 

516 Put Asunder; or. Lady Castle- 

maine’s Divorce. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“Dora Thorne” 20 

517 Passive Crime, A, and Other 
Stories. By “ The Duchess ” 10 

518 Hidden Sin, The. A Novel 20 

519 James Gordon’s Wife, A Novel 20 

520 She's All the World to Me. By 

Hall Caine 10 

521 Entangled. By E. Fairfax 

Byrrne 20 

522 Zig-Zag, the Clown; or, The 

Steel Gauntlets. By F. Du 
Boisgobey. 20 

523 Consequences of a Duel, The. 

By F. Du Boisgobey 20 


10 


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624 Strangers and Pilgrims. By- 
Miss M. E. Braddon 20 

525 Paul Vargas, and Other Stories. 

By Hugh Conway, author of 
“Called Back” 10 

526 Madame De Presnel. By E. 

Frances Poynter 20 

527 Days of My Life. The. By Mrs. 

Oliphant 20 

528 At His Gates. By Mrs. Oliphant 20 

529 Doctor’s Wife, The. By Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

530 Pair of Blue Eyes, A. By Thom- 

as Hardy 20 

531 Prime Minister, The. By An- 

thony Trollope. First Half .. 20 

531 Prime Minister, The. By An- 

thony Trollope. Second Half 20 

532 Arden Court. Barbara Graham 20 

533 Hazel ICirke. By Marie Walsh 20 

534 Jack. By Alphonse Daudet 20 

535 Henrietta’s Wish; or. Domi- 

neering. By Charlotte M. 
Yonge 10 

536 Dissolving Views. By Mrs. An- 

drew Lang 10 

637 Piccadilly. Laurence Oliphant 10 

638 Fair Country Maid, A. By E. 

Fairfax Byrrne 20 

539 Silvermead. By Jean Middle- 

mas 20 

640 At a High Price. By E. Werner 20 
541 “ As it Fell Upon a Day,” by 
“The Duchess,” and Uncle 
Jack, by Walter Besant 10 

642 Fenton’s Quest. By Miss M. E. 

Braddon 20 

643 Family Affair, A. By Hugh 

Conway, author of “ Called 
Back” 20 

544 Cut by the County; or, Grace 

Darnel. By Miss M. E. Brad- 
don 10 

545 Vida’s Story. By author of 

“ Guilty Without Crime ” 10 

646 Mrs. Keith’s Crime 10 

547 Coquette’s Conquest, A. By 

Basil 20 

548 Fatal Marriage, A, and The 

Shadow in the Corner. By 
Miss M. E. Braddon .'. 10 

549 Dudley Carleon ; or. The Broth- 

er’s Secret, and George Caul- 
field’s Journey. ByMissM. E. 
Braddon 10 

550 Struck Down. By Hawley Smart 10 
561 Barbara Heathcote's Trial. By 

Rosa N. Carey. 2 parts, each 20 

552 Hostages to Fortune. By Miss 

M. E. Braddon 20 

553 Birds of Prey. By Miss M. E. 

Braddon 20 

654 Charlotte’s Inheritance. (A Se- 
quel to “ Birds of Prey.”) By 
Miss M. E. Braddon 20 

555 Cara Roma. By Miss Grant 20 

556 Prince of Darkness, A. By F. 

Warden 


557 

558 

559 

560 

561 

562 


563 

564 

565 

566 


567 

568 

569 

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To the Bitter End. By Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

Poverty Corner. By G. Manville 

Fenn 20 

Taken at the Flood. By Miss 

M. E. Braddon 20 

Asphodel. By Miss M. E. Brad- 
don 20 

Just As I Am ; or, A Living Lie. 

By Miss M. E. Braddon 20 

Lewis Arundel; or. The Rail- 
road of Life. By Frank E. 

Smedley 20 

Two Sides of the Shield, The. 

By Charlotte M. Yonge 20 

At Bay. By Mrs. Alexander. . . 10 
No Medium. Bj^ Annie Thomas 10 
Royal Highlanders, The; or, 
The Black Watch in Egypt. 

By James Grant 20 

Dead Men’s Shoes. By Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

Perpetual Curate, The. By Mrs. 

Oliphant 20 

Harry Muir. By Mrs. Oliphant 20 
John Marchmont’s Legacy. By 

Miss M. E. Braddon 20 

Paul Carew's Story. By Alice 

Corny ns Carr 10 

Healey. By Jessie Fothergill. 20 
Love’s Harvest. B. L. Farjeon 20 
Nabob, The: A Story of Paris- 
ian Life and Manners. By Al- 
phonse Daudet 20 

Finger of Fate, The. By Cap- 
tain Mayne Reid 20 

Her Martyrdom. By Charlotte 
M. Braeme, author of “Dora 

Thorne ” 20 

In Peril and Privation. By 

James Payn 10 

Mathias Sandorf. By Jules 

Verne. (Illustrated.) Parti. 10 
Mathias Sandorf. By Jules 

Verne. (Illustrated.) Part II 10 
Mathias Sandorf. By Jules 

Verne. (Illustrated.) Part III 10 
Flower of Doom, The, and 

Other Stories. By M. Betham- 

Edwards 10 

Red Route, The. By William 

Sime 20 

Betrothed, The. (I Promessi 
Sposi,) Alessandro Manzoni. 20 
Lucia, Hugh and Another. By 

Mrs. J. H. Needed 20 

Victory Deane. By Cecil Griffith 20 

Mixed Motives 10 

Drawn Game, A. By Basil 20 

“ For Percival.” By Margaret 

Veley 20 

Parson o’ Dumford, The. By 

G. Manville Fenn 20 

Cherry. By the author of “A 

Great Mistake ” 10 

Luck of the Darrells, The. By 

James Payn 20 

Courting of Mary Smith, The. 

By F. W. Robinson 20 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY— Pocket Edition. 


11 


691 Queen of Hearts, The. By Wil- 
kie Collins 20 

502 Strangre Voyage, A. By W. 
Clark Russell 20 

593 Berna Boyle. By Mrs. J. H. 

Riddell 20 

594 Doctor Jacob. By Miss Bethain- 

Ed wards 20 

595 North Country Maid, A. By 

Mrs. H. Lovett Cameron 20 

596 My Ducats and My Daughter. 

By the author of “ The Crime 
of Christmas Day” 20 

597 Haco the Dreamer. By William 

Sime 10 

598 Corihna. By “Rita” 10 

599 Lancelot Ward, M.P. By George 

Temple 10 

600 Houp-La. By John Strange 

Winter. (Illustrated) 10 

601 Slings and Arrows, and other 

Stories. By Hugh Conway, 
author of “ Called Back ”... 10 

602 Camiola: A Girl With a Fortune. 

By Justin McCarthy 20 

603 Agnes. By Mrs. Oliphant. First 

Half 20 

603 Agnes. By Mrs. Oliphant. Sec- 

ond Half 20 

gp4 Innocent: A Tale of Modern 
Life. By Mrs. Oliphant. First 
Half 20 

604 Innocent: A Tale of Modern 

Life. By Mrs. Oliphant. Sec- 
ond Half 20 

605 Ombra. By Mrs. Oliphant 20 

606 Mrs. Hollyer. By Georgiana M. 

Craik 20 

607 Self-Doomed. By B. L. Farjeon 10 

608 For Lilias. By Rosa Nouchette 

Carey. In Two Parts, each. . 20 

609 Dark House, The : A Knot Un- 

raveled. By G. Manville Fenn 10 

610 Story of Dorothy Grape, The, 

and Other Tales. By Mrs. 
Henry Wood 10 

611 Babylon. By Cecil Power 20 

612 My Wife’s Niece. By the author 

of “ Doctor Edith Romney 20 

613 Ghost’s Touch, The. By Wilkie 

Collins 10 

614 No. 99. By Arthur Griffiths... 10 

615 Mary Anerley. By R. D. Black- 

more 20 

616 Sacred Nugget, The. By B. L. 

Farjeon 20 

617 Like Dian’s Kiss. By “ Rita ”. 20 

618 Mistletoe Bough, The. Christ- 

mas, 1885. lilited by Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

619 Joy; or, The Light of Cold- 

Home Ford. By May Crom- 
melin 20 

620 Bet\yeen the Heather and the 

Northern Sea. By M. Linskill 20 

621 Warden, The. By Anthony 

Trollope 10 

622 Harry Heathcote of Gangoil. By 

Anthony Trollope 10 


623 My Lady’s Money. By Wilkie 

Collins 10 

624 Primus in Indis. By M. J. Col- 

quhoun 10 

625 Erema; or. My Father’s Sin. 

By R. D. Blackmore 20 

626 Fair Mystery, A. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne ” 20 

627 White Heather. By Wm. Black 20 

628 Wedded Hands. By the author 

of “ My Lady’s Folly ” 20 

629 Cripps, the Carrier. By R. D. 

Blackmore 20 

630 Cradock Nowell. By R. D. 

Blackmore. First half 20 

630 Cradock Nowell. By R. D. 

Blackmore. Second half 20 

631 Christo well. By R. D. Blackmore 20 

632 Clara Vaughan. By R. D. Black- 

more 20 

633 Maid of Sker, The. By R. D. 

Blackmore. 1st half 20 

633 Maid of Sker, The. By R. D. 

Blackmore. 2d half 20 

634 Unforeseen, The. By Alice 

O’Hanlon 20 

635 Murder or Manslaughter? By 

Helen B. Mathers 10 

636 Alice Lorraine. By R. D. Black- 

more. 1st half 20 

636 Alice liOrraine. By R. D. Black- 

more. 2d half 20 

637 What’s His Offence? By author 

of “ The Two Miss Flemings ” 20 

638 In Quarters with the 25th (The 

Black Horse) Dragoons. By 
J. S. Winter 10 

639 Othmar. “Ouida.” 2 parts,each 20 

640 Nuttie’s Father. By Charlotte 

M. Yonge 20 

641 Rabbi’s Spell, The. By Stuart 

C. Cumberland 10 

642 Britta. By George Temple 10 

643 Sketch-book of (jeoffrey Cray- 

on, Gent, The. By Washing- 
ton Irving 20 

644 Girton Girl, A. By Mrs. Annie 

Edwards 20 

645 Mrs. Smith of Longmains. By 

Rhoda Broughton 10 

646 Master of the Mine, The. By 

Robert Buchanan 20 

647 Goblin Gold. By May Crom- 

melin 10 

648 Angel of the Bells, The. By F. 

Du Boisgobey. 20 

649 Cradle and Spade. By William 

Sime 20 

650 Alice; or. The Mysteries. (A Se- 
quel to “ Ernest Maltravers.”) 

By Sir E. Bulwer Lytton 20 

651 ^ Self or Bearer.” By Walter 

Besant 10 

652 Lady With the Rubies, The. By 

E. Marlitt 20 

653 Barren Title, A. T. W. Speight 10 

654 “Us.” An Old-fashioned Story. 

By Mrs. Molesworth * . . . . 10, 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY — Pocket Edition, 




655 Open Door, The. By Mrs. Oli- 

phant 10 

656 Golden Flood, The. By R. E. 

Francillon and Wm. Senior. . 10 

657 Christmas Angel. By B. L. Far- 

jeon 10 

658 History of a Week, The. By 

Mrs. L. B. Walford 10 

659 Waif of the “ Cynthia,” The. 

By Jules Verne 20 

660 Scottish Chiefs, The. By Miss 

Jane Porter. 1st half 20 

660 Scottish Chiefs, The. By Miss 

Jane Porter. 2d half 20 

661 Rainbow Gold. By David Chris- 

tie Murray 20 

662 Mystery of Allan Grale, The. By 

Isabella Fyvie Mayo 20 

663 Handy Andy. By Samuel Lover 20 

664 Rory O’More. By Samuel Lover 20 

665 Dove in the Eagle’s Nest, The. 

By Charlotte M. Yonge 20 

666 My Young Alcides. By Char- 


667 Golden Lion of Granpere, The. 

By Anthony Trollope 20 

668 Half-Way. An Anglo-French 

Romance 20 

669 Philosophy of Whist, The. By 

William Pole 20 

670 Rose and the Ring, The. By 

W. M. Thackeray. Illustrated 10 

671 Don Gesualdo. By“Ouida.”.. 10 

672 In Maremma. By Ouida.” 1st 

half 20 

672 In Maremma. By “ Ouida.” 2d 

half 20 

673 Story of a Sin. By Helen B. 

Mathers 20 

674 First Person Singular. By Da- 

vid Christie Murray 20 

675 Mrs. Dymond. By Miss Thacke- 

ray 20 

676 Child’s History of England, A. 

By Charles Dickens 20 

677 Griselda. By the author of “ A 

Woman’s Love-Story” 20 

678 Dorothy’s Venture. By Mary 

Cecil Hay 20 

679 Where Two Ways Meet. By 

Sarah Doudney 10 

680 Fast and Loose. By Arthur 

Griffiths 20 

i61 Singer’s Story, A. By May 
Laffan 10 

682 In the Middle Watch. By W. 

Clark Russell 20 

683 Bachelor Vicar of Newforth, 

The. By Mrs. J. Harcourt-Roe 20 

684 I^ast Days at Apswich 10 

685 England under Gladstone. 1880 

—1885. By Justin H. McCar- 
thy, M.P 20 

686 Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and 

Mr. Hyde. By Robert Louis 
Stevenson. 10 

687 Country Gtentleman, A. By Mrs. 

Oliphant 20 


688 Man of Honor, A. By John 


Strange Winter. Illustrated. 10 

689 Heir Presumptive, The. By 

Florence Marry at 20 

690 Far From the Madding Crowd. 

By Thomas Hardy 20 

691 Valentine Strange. By David 

Christie Murray 20 

692 Mikado, Tlie. and other Comic 

Operas. AVritteri by W. S. 
Gilbert. Composed by Arthur 
Sullivan 20 

693 Felix Holt, the Radical. By 

George Eliot 20 

694 John Maidment. By Julian 

Sturgis 20 


695 Hearts: Queen, Knave, and 

Deuce. By David Christie 
Murray 20 

696 Thaddeus of Warsaw. By Miss 

Jane Porter 20 

697 Pretty Jailer, The. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. 1st half 20 

697 Pretty Jailer, The. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. 2d half 20 

698 Life’s Atonement, A. By David 

Christie Murray 20 

699 Sculptor’s Daughter, The. By 

F. Du Boisgobey. 1st half. . . 20 

699 Sculptor’s Daughter, The. By 

F. Du BoLsgobey. 2d half 20 

700 Ralph the Heir. By Anthony 

Trollope. First half 20 

700 Ralph the Heir. By Anthony 

Trollope. Second half 20 

701 Woman in White, The. Wilkie 

Collins. Illustrated. 1st half 20 

701 Woman in White, The. Wilkie 

Collins. Illustrated. 2d half 20 

702 Man and Wife. By Wilkie Col- 

lins. First half 20 

702 Man and Wife. By Wilkie Col- 

lins. Second half 20 

703 House Divided Against Itself, 

A. By Mrs. Oliphant 20 

704 Prince Otto. By R. L. Steven- 

son 10 

705 Woman I Loved; The, and the 

Woman Who Loved Me. By 
Isa Blagden 10 

706 Crimson Stain, A. By Annie 

Bradshaw 10 

707 Silas Marner: The Weaver of 

Raveloe. By George Eliot. . . 10 


708 Ormond. By Maria Edgeworth 20 

709 Zenobia; or. The Fall of Pal- 

myra. By William Ware. 
First half 20 

709 Zenobia; or. The Fall of Pal- 

myra. By William Ware. 
Second half 10 

710 Greatest Heiress in England, 

The. By Mrs. Oliphant 20 

711 Cardinal Sin, A. By Hugh Con- 

way, author of “ Called 
Back” 20 

712 For Maimie’s Sake. By Grant 

Allen 18® 


THE SEASIDE LIBRAKY— Pocket Edition. 


13 


713 “ Cherry Ripe.” By Helen B. 

Mathers 20 

714 ’Twixt Love and Duty. By 

Tighe Hopkins 20 

715 I Have Lived and Loved. By 

Mrs. Forrester 20 

716 Victor and Vanquished. By 

Mary Cecil Hay 20 

717 Beau Taiicrede ; or, the Mar- 

riage Verdict. By Alexander 
Dumas ... 20 

718 Unfairly Won. By Mrs. Power 

O’Donoghue 20 

719 Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage. 

By Lord Byron 10 

720 Paul Clifford. By Sir E. Bulwer 

Lyttou, Bart 20 

721 Dolores. By Mrs. Forrester. . . 20 

722 What’s Mine’s Mine. By George 

Macdonald 20 

723 Mauleverer’s Millions. By T. 

Wemyss Reid 20 

724 My Lord and My Lady. By 

Mrs. Forrester 20 

725 My Ten Yeare’ Imprisonment. 

By Silvio Pellico 10 

726 Bly Hero. By Mrs. Forrester.. 20 

727 F air Women. By Blrs. Forrester 20 

728 Janet’s Repentance. By George 

Eliot 10 

729 Mignon. B.y Mrs. Forrester... 20 

730 Autobiography of Benjamin 

F’ranklin, The 10 

731 Bayou Bride, The. By Mrs. 

Mary E. Bryan 20 

732 From Olympus to Hades. By 

Mrs. Forrester 20 

733 Lady Branksmere. By “The 

Duchess” 20 

734 Viva. By Mrs. Forrester 20 

735 Until the Day Breaks. By 

Emily Spender 20 

736 R'\y and Viola. Mrs. Forrester 20 

737 Aunt Rachel. By David Christie 

Murray 10 

736 In the Golden Days. By Edna 
Lyall 20 

739 Caged Lion, The. By Charlotte 

M. Vonge 20 

740 Rhona. By Mrs. Forrester 20 

741 Heiress of Hilldrop, The; or, 

The Romance of a Young 
Gii’l- By Charlotte M. Bt aeme, 
author of “ Dora Thorne ”... 20 

742 Love and Life. By Charlotte 

M. Yonge 20 

743 Jack’s Courtship. By W. Clark 

Russell. 1st half 20 

743 Jack’s Courtship. By W. Clark 

Russell. 2d half 20 

744 Diana Carevv ; or. For a Wom- 

an's Sake. By Mrs. Forrester 20 

745 For Another’s Sin ; or, A Strug- 

gle for Love. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne” 20 

746 Cavalry Life; or. Sketches and 

Stories in Barracks and Out. 

By J. S. Winter 20 


747 Our Sensation Novel. Edited 

by Justin H. McCarthy, M.P. 10 

748 Hurrish : A Study. By the 

Hon. Emily Lawless 20 

749 Lord Vanecourt’s Daughter. By 

Mabel Collins 20 


750 An Old Story of My Farming 

Days. FYitz Reuter. 1st half 20 

750 An Old Story of My Farming 

Days. Fritz Reuter. 2d half 20 

751 Great Voyages and Great Navi- 

gators. Jules Verne. 1st half SO 

751 Great Voyages and Great Navi- 

gators. Jules Verne. 2d half 20 

752 Jackanapes, and Other Stories. 


By Juliana Horatio Ewing. . . 10 

753 King Solomon’s Mines. By H. 

Rider Haggard 20 

754 How to be Happy Though Mar- 

ried. By a Graduate in the 
University of Matrimony 20 

755 Margery Daw. A Novel 20 

756 Strange Adventures of Captain 

Dangerous, The. By George 
Augustus Sala 20 

757 Love’s Martyr. By Laurence 

AlmaTadema 10 

758 “Good-bye, Sweetheart!” By 

Rhoda Broughton 20 

759 In Shallow Waters. By Annie 

Armitt 20 

760 Aurelian ; or, Rome in the Third 

Century. By William Ware. 20 

761 Will Weatherhelm. By William 

H. G. Kingston 20 

762 Impressions of Theophrastus 

Such. By George Eliot 10 

763 Midshipman, The, Marmaduke 

Merry. Wm. H. G. Kingston. 20 

764 Evil Genius, The. By Wilkie 

Collins 20 

765 Not Wisely, But Too Well. By 

Rhoda Broughton 20 

766 No. XIII. ; or, 'I'he Story of the 

Lost Vestal. Emma Marshall 10 

767 Joan. By Rhoda Broughton. . 20 

768 Rc*d as a Rose is She. By Rhoda 

Broughton 20 

769 Cometh Up as a Flower. By 

Rhoda Broughton 20 

770 Castle of Otranto, The. By 

Horace Walpole 10 

771 Mental Struggle, A. By “ The 

Duchess ” 20 

772 Gascoyne, the Sandal-Wood 

Trader, By R. M. Ballantyne 20 

773 Mark of Cain, The. By Andrew 

Lang 10 

774 Life and Travels of Mungo 

Ps-pIc Th0 10 

775 Three Clerks, The. By Anthony 

Trollope 20 

776 Pere Go riot. By H. De Balzac 20 

777 Voyages and Travels of Sir 

John Maundeville, Kt., The. . 10 

778 Society’s Verdict. By the au- 

thor of “ 3Iy Marriage ” 20 

779 Doom 1 An Atlantic Episode, 

By Justin H. McCarthy, M.P. 10 


14 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY— Pocket 


780 Rare Pale Margaret. By the au- 

thor of “ What’s His Offence?” 20 

781 Secret Dispatch, The. By James 


Grant 10 

782 Closed Door, The. By F. Du 
Boisgobey. 1st half 20 

782 Closed Door, The. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. 2d half 20 

783 Chantry House. By Charlotte 

M. Yonge - 20 

784 Two Miss Flemings, The. By au- 

thor of ” What’s His Offence?” 20 

785 Haunted Chamber, The. By 

“ The Duchess ” 10 

786 Ethel Mildmay’s Follies. By 

author of ” Petite’s Romance ” 20 

787 Court Royal. A Story of Cross 

Currents. By S. Baring-Gould 20 

788 Absentee, The. An Irish Story. 

By Maria Edgeworth 20 

789 Through the Looking-Glass, 

and What Alice Found There. 

By Lewis Carroll. With fifty 
illustrations by John Tenniel. 20 


T90 Chaplet of Pearls, The ; or. The 
Wliite and Black Ribaumont. 
Charlotte M. Yonge. 1st half 20 

790 Chaplet of Pearls, The ; or. The 

White and Black Ribaumbnt. 
Charlotte M. Yonge. 2d half 20 

791 Mayor of Casterbridge, The. By 


Thomas Hardy 20 

792 Set in Diamonds. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne ” 20 

793 Vivian Grey. By the Rt. Hon. 

Benjamin Disraeli, Earl of 
Beaconsfleld. First half 20 

793 Vivian Grey. By the Rt. Hon. 

Benjamin Disraeli, Earl of 
Beaconsfield. Second half. . . 20 

794 Beaton’s Bargain. By Mrs. Al- 

exander 20 

795 Sam’s Sweetheart. By Efelen 

B. Mathers 20 

796 In a Grass Country. By Mrs. 

H. Lovett Cameron 20 


797 Lock Before You Leap. By 

Mrs. Alexander 20 

798 Fashion of this World, The. By 

Helen B. Mathers 10 

799 My Lady Green Sleeves. By 

Helen B. Mathers 20 

800 Hopes and Fears; or. Scenes 

from the Life of a Spinster. 
Charlotte M. Yonge. 1st half 20 
800 Hopes and Fears; or, Scenes 
from the Life of a Spinster. 
Charlotte M. Yonge. 2d half 20 


801 She Stoops to Conquer, and 

The Good-Natured Man. By 
Oliver Goldsmith. 10 

802 Stern Chase, A. By Mrs.Cashel- 

Hoey 20 

803 Major Frank. By A. L. G. Bos- 

boom-Toussaint 20 

804 Living or Dead. By Hugh Con- 

way, author of “Called Back ” 20 


805 Freres, The. By Mrs. Alex- 

ander. 1st half 20 

-^5 Freres, The. By Mrs. Alex- 
ander. 2d half 20 

806 Her Dearest Foe. By Mrs. Alex- 

ander. First half 20 

806 Her Dearest Foe. By Mrs. Alex- 

ander. Second half 20 

807 If Love Be Love. D. Cecil Gibbs 20 

808 King Arthur. Not a Love Story. 

By Miss Mulock 20 

809 Witness My Hand. By the au- 

thor of “ Lady Gwendolen’s 
Tryst ” 10 

810 Secret of Her Life, The. By Ed- 

ward Jenkins . 20 

811 Head Station, The. By Mrs. 

Campbell-Praed 20 

812 No Saint. By Adeline Sergeant 20 

813 Army Society. Life in a Garri- 

son Town. By John Strange 
Winter 10 

814 Heritage of Langdale, The. By 

Mrs. Alexander 20 

815 Ralph Wilton’s Weird. By Mrs. 

Alexander 10 

816 Rogues and Vagabonds. By 

George R. Sims, author of 
“’Ostler Joe” 20 

817 Stabbed in the Dark. By Mrs. 

E. Lynn Linton 10 

818 Pluck. By John Strange Winter 10 

819 Fallen Idol, A. By F. Anstey. . . 20 

820 Doris’s Fortune. By Florence 

Warden 20 

821 World Between Them, The. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “Dora Thorne.” 20 

822 Passion Flower, A. A Novel. .. 20 

823 Heir of the Ages, The. By James 

Payn 20 

824 Her Own Doing. W. E. Norris 10 

825 Master Passion, The. By Flor- 

ence Marryat 20 

826 Cynic Fortune. By D. Christie 

Murray 20 

827 Effie Ogilvie. By Mrs. Oliphant 20 

828 Prettiest Woman in Warsaw, 

The. By Mabel Collins 20 

829 Actor’s Ward, The. By the au- 

thor of “ A Fatal Dower ”... 20 

830 Bound by a Spell. Hugh Con- 

way, author of “ Called Back” 20 

831 Pomegranate Seed. By the au- 

thor of “ The Two Miss Flem- 
ings,” etc 20 

832 Kidnapped. By Robert Louis 

Stevenson 20 

833 Ticket No. “9672.” By Jules 

Verne. First half 10 

833 Ticket No. “ 9672.” By Jules 

Verne. Second half 1C 

834 Ballroom Repentance, A. By 

Mrs. Annie Edwards 20 

835 Vivian the Beauty. By Mrs. 

Annie Edwards 20 

836 Point of Honor, A. By Mrs. An- 

nie Edwards 20 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY — Pocket Edition. 15 


837 Vagabond Heroine, A. By Mrs. 

Annie Edwards 10 

838 Ought We to Visit Her? By 

Mrs. Annie Edwards 20 

839 Leah: A Woman of Fashion. 

By Mrs. Annie Edwards 20 

840 One Thing Needful; or. The 

Penalty of Fate. By Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

841 Jet : Jler Face or Her Fortune? 

By Mrs. Annie Edwards 10 

842 Blue-Stocking, A. By Mrs. An- 

nie Edwards 10 

843 Archie Lovell. By Mrs. Annie 

Edwards 20 

844 Susan Fielding. By Mrs. Annie 

Edwards 20 

845 Philip Earnscliffe ; or, The Mor- 

als of May Fair. By Mrs. 
Annie Edwards 20 

846 Sieven Lawrence. By Mrs. 

Annie Edwards. 1st half 20 

846 Steven Lawrence. By Mrs. 

Annie Edwards. 2d half 20 

847 Bad to Beat. By Hawley Smart 10 

848 My Friend Jim. By W. E. Norris 20 
^9 Wicked Girl, A. Mary Cecil Hay 20 

850 Playwright’s Daughter, A. By 

Mrs. Annie Edwards 10 

851 Cry of Blood, The. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. First half 20 

851 Cry of Blood, The. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. Second half 20 

852 Under Five Lakes; or. The 

Cruise of the “ Destroyer.” 

By M. Quad. . /. 20 

853 True Magdalen, A. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 

“ Dora Thorne ” 20 

854 Woman’s Error, A. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, ' author of 
” Dora Thorne ” 20 

855 Dynamiter, The. By Robert 

Louis Stevenson and Fanny 
Van de Grift Stevenson 20 

856 New Arabian Nights. By Rob- 

ert Louis Stevenson 20 

857 Kildee; or, The Sphinx of the 

Red House. By Mary E. 

Bryan. First half 20 

857 Kildee; or. The Sphinx of the 

Red House. By Mary E. 

Bryan. Second half 20 

858 Old Ma’m’selle’s Secret. By E. 

Marlitt 20 

859 Ottilie: An Eighteenth Century 

Idyl, and The Prince of the 100 
Soups. By Vernon Lee 20 

860 Her Lord and Master. By Flor- 

ence Marryat 20 

861 My Sister the Actress. By Flor- 

ence Marry at 20 

862 Ugly Barrington. By “ The 

Duchess.” 10 

863 “My Own Child.” By Florence 

Marryat 20 

864 “ No Intentions.” By Florence 

Marryat..... 20 


865 Written in Fire. By Florence 

Marryat 20 

866 Miss Harrington’s Husband ; or. 

Spiders of Society. By Flor- 
ence Marryat 1 20 

867 Girls of Feversham, The. By 

Florence Marryat 20 

868 Petronel. By Florence Marryat 20 

869 Poison of Asps, The. By Flor- 

ence Marryat 10 

870 Out of His Reckoning. By Flor- 

ence Marryat 10 

871 Bachelor’s Blunder, A. By W. 

' E. Norris 20 

872 With Cupid’s Eyes. By Flor- 

ence Marryat 20 

873 Harvest of Wild Oats, A. By 

Florence Marryat 20 

874 House Party, A. By “ Ouida ”. 10 

875 Lady Val worth’s Diamonds. By 

“The Duchess” 20 

876 Mignon’s Secret. John Strange 

Winter 10 

877 Facing the Footlights. By Flor- 

ence Marryat 20 

878 Little Tu’penny. By S. Baring- 

Gould 10 

879 Touchstone of Peril, The. By 

R. E. Forrest 20 

880 Son of His Father, The. By 

Mrs. Oliphant 20 

881 Mohaw’ks. In Two Parts, each 20 

882 Children of Gibeon. By Walter 

Besant 20 

883 Once Again. By Mrs. Forrester 20 
8^ Voyage to the Cape, A. By W. 

Clark Russell 20 

885 Les Mis6rables. Victor Hugo. 

Parti 20 

885 Les Mis6rables. Victor Hugo. 
Part II 20 

885 Les Mis6rables. Victor Hugo. 

Part HI 20 

886 Paston Carew, Millionaire and 

Miser. Mrs. E. Lynn Linton. 20 

887 Modern Telemachus, A. By 

Charlotte M. Yonge 20 

888 Treasure Island. Robert Louis 

Stevenson 10 

889 An Inland Voyage. By Robert 

Louis Stevenson 10 

890 Mistletoe Bough, The. Christ- 

mas, 1886. Edited by Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

891 Vera Nevill; or. Poor Wisdom’s 

Chance. By Mrs. H. Lovett 
Cameron 20 

892 That Winter Night; or. Love’s 

Victory. Robert Buchanan. . 10 

893 Love's Conflict. By Florence 

Marryat. First half 20 

893 Love’s Conflict. By Florence 

Marryat. Second half 20 

894 Doctor Cupid, By Rhoda 

Broughton 20 

895 Star and a Heart, A. By Flor- 

ence Marryat — 10 

896 Guilty River, The. By Wilkie 

Collins 20 


16 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY— Pocket Edition. 


897 Ange. By Florence Marryat. .. 20 

898 Bulldog and Butterfly, and Julia 

and Her Romeo, by David 
Christie Murray, and Romeo 


and Juliet, by William Black. 20 

899 Little Stepson, A. By Florence 

Marryat 10 

900 Woman’s Wit, By. By Mrs. Al- 

exander 20 

901 Lucky Disappointment, A. By 

Florence Marryat 10 

902 Poor Gentleman, A. By Mrs. 

Oliphant 20 

903 Phyllida. By Florence Marryat 20 

904 Holy Rose, The. By Walter *Be- 

sant 10 

905 Fair-Haired Alda, The. By Flor- 

ence Marry at 20 

906 World Went Very Well Then, 

The. By Walter Besant 20 

907 Bright Star of Life, The. By 

B. L. Farjeon 20 

908 Willful Young Woman, A 20 

909 Nine of Hearts, The. By B. L. 

Farjeon 20 

910 She: A History of Adventure. 

By H. Rider Haggard 20 

911 Golden Bells: A Peal in Seven 

Changes. By R. E. Francillon 20 

912 Pure Gold, By Mrs. H. Lovett 

Cameron. Two Parts, each 20 

913 Silent Shore, The. By John 

Bloundelle- Burton 20 

914 Joan Wentworth. By Katha- 

rine S. Macquoid 20 

915 That Other Person. By Mrs. 

Alfred Hunt. Two Parts, each 20 

916 Golden Hope, The. By W. Clark 

Russell. 20 


917 Case of Reuben Malachi, The. 

By H. Sutherland Edwards.. 10 

918 Red Band, The. By F. Du Bois- 

gobey. First half 20 

918 Red Band, The. By F. Du Bois- 

gobey. Second half 20 

919 Locksley Hall Sixty Years Af- 

ter, etc. By Alfred, Lord 
Tennyson, P.L., D.C.L 10 

920 Child of the Revolution, A. By 

the author of “ Mademoiselle 
Mori ” 20 

921 Late Miss Hollingford, The. 

By Rosa Mulholland 10 

922 Marjorie. By Charlotte M. 

Braeme, author of “Dora 
Thorne.” 20 


287 At War With Herself. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“Dora Thorne” 10 


923 At War With Herself. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme. (Large type 
edition) 20 

924 ’Twixt Smile and Tear. Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“ Dora Thorne ” 20 


925 The Outsider. Hawley Smart. 20 

926 Springlmven. By R. D. Black- 

more. 1st and 2d half, each. 20 


927 Sweet Cymbeline. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 

“Dora Thorne” 20 

294 Hilda; or, The False Vow. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme 10 

928 Hilda; or, The False Vow. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “Dora Thorne.” (Large 
type edition) 20 

929 The Belle of Lynn; or. The 

Miller’s Daughter. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“Dora Thorne” 20 

930 Uncle Max. By Rosa Nouchette 

Carey. In Two Parts, each.. 20 

931 Lady Diana’s Pride. Byl^Jhar- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“Dora Thorne” 20 

932 Queenie’s Whim. Rosa Nou- 


chette Carey. Two Parts.each 20 

933 A Hidden Terror. Mary Albert 20 

934 Woodd and Married. Rosa Nou- 

chette Carey. 2 parts, each. . 20 

935 Borderland. Jessie Fothergill. 20 

936 Nellie’s Memories. Rosa Nou- 


chette Carey. Two Parts,each 20 

937 Cashel B 3 u*on’s Profession. By 

George Bernard Shaw 20 

938 Cranford. By Mrs. Gaskell 20 

939 Why Not? Florence Marryat.. 20 

940 The ]\Ierry Men, and Other Tales 

and Fables. By Robert Louis 
Stevenson 20 

941 Jess. By H. Rider Haggard. . . 20 

942 Cash on Delivery. By F. Du 

Boisgobey 20 

943 Weavers and Weft; or, “ Love 

that Hath Us in His Net.” By 
Miss M. E. Braddon 20 

944 The Professor. By Charlotte 

Bront6 20 

945 The Trumpet-Major. Thomas 

Hardy 20 

946 The Dead Secret. By Wilkie 

Collins 20 

947 Publicans and Sinners; or, Lu- 

cius Davoren. By Miss M. E. 
Braddon. First half 20 

947 Publicans and Sinners; or, Lu- 

cius Davoren. By Miss M. E. 

Braddon. Second half 20 

293 The Shadow of a Sin. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 
* “ Dora Thorne ” 10 

948 The Shadow of a Sin. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“ Dora Thorne.” (Large type 
edition) 20 

949 Claribel’s Love Story; or. 

Love’s Hidden Depths. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme, author 

of “Dora Thorne” 20 

25 Mrs. Geoffrey. By “ The Duch- 
ess.” (Large type edition). . . 90 

950 Mrs. Geoffrey. “ The Duchess ” 10 
459 Woman’s Temptation, A. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “Dora Thorne.” (Large 
type edition) 20 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY— Pocket Edition, 


11 


951 Woman's Temptation, A. . By- 
Charlotte M. Braeme, author 

of “Dora Thorne” 10 

396 Woman’s War, A. By Charlotte 
M. Braeme, author of Dora 
Thorne” 10 


952 Woman’s War, A. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne.” (Large type edition) 20 

297 Hilary’s Folly: or. Her Mar- 
riage Vow. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne” 10 

953 Hilary’s Folly; or, Her Mar- 

riage Vow. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne.” (Large type edition) 20 

954 A Girl’s Heart. By the author 

of “Nobody’s Darling” 20 

288 From Gloom to Sunlight; or. 
From Out the Gloom. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 


955 From Gloom to Sunlight; or, 

From Out the Gloom. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “Dora Thorne.” (Large 
type edition) 20 

956 Her Johnnie. By Violet Whyte 20 

957 The Woodlanders. By Thomas 

Hardy 20 

958 A Haunted Life; or. Her Terri- 

ble Sin. Charlotte M. Braeme, 
author of “ Dora Thorne ”.. . 20 

959 Dawn. By H. Rider Haggard. 20 

960 Elizabeth’s Fortune. By Bertha 

Thomas 20 

961 Wee Wifie. By Rosa Nouchette 

Carey 20 

9G2 Sabina Zembra. By William 

Black. First half 20 

962 Sabina Zembra. By William 

Black. Second half 20 

963 Worth Winning. By Mrs. H. 

Lovett Cameron 20 

964 A Struggle for the Right; or, 

Tracking the Truth 20 

965 Periwinkle. By Arnold Gray . . 20 

966 He, by the author of “King 

Solomon’s Wives”; and A 
Siege Baby and Childhood’s 
Memories, by J, S. Winter.. . . 20 
2^37 Repented at Leisure. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“ Dora Thorne.” (Large type 
edition) 20 

967 Repented at Leisure. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“ Dora Thorne ” 10 

968 Blossom and Fruit; or, Bla- 

dame’s Ward. By the author 
of “ Wedded Hands ” 20 

969 The Mystery of Colde Fell ; or, 

Not Proven. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorn©” 20 


970 King Solomon’s Wives; or. The 

Phantom Mines. By Hyder 
Ragged. (Illustrated) 20 

971 Garrison Gossip: Gathered in 

Blankhampton. By John 
Strange Winter 20 

972 Gold Elsie. By E. Marlitt 20 

973 The Squire’s Darling. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“ Dora Thorne ” 20 

974 Strathmore; or. Wrought by 

His Own Hand. By“Ouida.” 
First half 20 

974 Strathmore; or. Wrought b}*^ 

His Own Hand. By “ Ouida.” 
Second half 20 

975 A Dark Marriage Morn. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “Dora Thorne” 20 

976 Robur the Conqueror; or, A 

Trip Round the World in a 
Flying Machine. Jules Verne 20 

977 The Haunted Hotel. By Wilkie 

Collins 20 

978 Her Second Love. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“ Dora Thorne ” 20 

979 The Count’s Secret. By Emile 

Gaboriau. Parti 20 

979 The Count’s Secret. By Emile 

Gaboriau. Part II 20 

980 To Call Her Mine. By Walter 

Besant 20 

981 Granville de Vigne ; or, Held in 

Bondage. By “Ouida.” 1st 
half 20 

981 Granville de Vigne; or. Held in 

Bondage. By “Ouida.” 2d 
half 20 

982 The Duke’s Secret. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“Dora Thorne” 20 

983 Uarda. A Romance of Ancient 

Egypt. By George Ebers 20 

984 Her Own Sister. By E. S. 

Williamson 20 

985 On Her Wedding Morn, and 

The Mystery of the Holly- 
Tree. Charlotte M. Braeme, 
author of “ Dora Thorne ”.. . . 20 

986 The Great Hesper. By Frank 

Barrett 20 


987 Brenda Yorke, and Upon the 

Waters. By Mary Cecil Hay. 20 

988 The Shattered Idol, and’Letty 

Leigh. Charlotte M. Braeme, 
author of “ Dora Thorne ”... 20 

989 Allan Quatermain. By H. Rider 


Haggard 20 

990 The Earl’s Error, and Arnold’s 

Promise. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of “Dora 
Thorne” 20 

991 Mr. Midshipman Easy. By Cap- 

tain Marryat 20 

992 Marrying and Giving in Mar- 

riage. By Mrs. Molesworth... 20 

993 Fighting the Air. By Florence 

Marryat 20 


\ '.jvmJ 


18 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY— Pocket Editiow. 


994 A Penniless Orphan. By W. 

Heimburg 20 

995 An Unnatural Bondage, and 

That Beautiful Lady. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “Dora Thorne” 20 

996 Idalia. By “ Ouida.” 1st half. 20 

996 Idalia. By “ Ouida.” 2d half. 20 

997 Forging the Fetters, and The 

Australian Aunt- By Mrs. 
Alexander. 20 

998 Open, Sesame! By Florence 

Marryat 20 

999 The Second Wife. E. Marlitt. 20 
1^0 Puck. By “ Ouida.” 1st half 20 
luOO Puck. By “ Ouida.” 2d half. 20 

1001 Lady Adelaide’s Oath; or, The 

Castle’s Heir. By Mrs. Henry 
Wood 20 

1002 Marriage at a Venture. By 

Emile Gaberiau 20 

1003 Chandos. By “ Ouida.” 1st 

half 20 

1003 Chandos. By “ Ouida.” 2d 

half 20 

1004 IMad Dumaresq. By Florence 

Marryat 20 

1005 99 Dark Street. F. W. Robinson 20 

1006 His Wife’s Judgment. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “ Dora Thorne ” 20 

1007 IMiss Gascoigne. By Mrs. J. 

H. Riddell 20 

1008 A Thorn in Her Heart. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “Dora Tliorne ” 20 

1009 In an Evil Hour, and Other 

Stories. By “ The Duchess ” 20 

1010 Golden Gates. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of ” Dora 
Thorne ” 20 

1011 Texar’s Vengeance; or. North 

Versus South. Jules Verne. 
Part 1 20 

1011 Texar’s Vengeance ; or, North 

Versus South. By Jules Verne 
Part II 20 

1012 A Nameless Sin. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thome ” 20 

1013 The Confessions of Gerald 

Estcourt. Florence IMarryat. 20 

1014 A Mad Love. By Charlotte M. 

Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne” 20 

1015 A Thousand Francs Reward. 

By Emile Gaboriau 20 

1016 A Modern Circe. By “ The 

Duchess” 20 

1017 Tricotrin. TheStory of a Waif 

and Stray. “Ouida.” 1st half 20 

1017 Tricotrin. The Story of a Waif 

and Stray. “Ouida.” 2d half 20 

1018 Two Marriages. By Miss Mu- 

lock 20 

1019 Major and Minor. By W. E. 

Norris. 1st half 20 

1019 Major and Minor. By W. E. 
Norris. 2d half 20 


1020 Michael Strogoff; or, The Cou- 

rier of the Czar. Jules Verne 20 

1021 The Heir to Ashley, and The 

Red -Court Farm. By Mrs. 
Henry Wood 20 

1022 Driven to Bay. By Florence 

Marryat 20 

1023 Next of Kin— Wanted. By M. 

Betliam-Ed wards 20 

1024 Under the Storm; or. Stead- 

fast’s Charge. By Charlotte 
M. Yonge 20 

1025 Dais}' ’s l>ilemma. By Mrs. H. 

Lovett Cameron 20 

1026 A Dark Inheritance. By Mary 

Cecil Hay 20 

1027 A Life’s Secret. By Mrs. Henry 

Wood 20 

1028 A Devout Lover; or, A Wasted 

Love. By Mrs. H. Lovett Cam- 
eron 20 

1029 Armadale. By Wilkie Collins. 

1st half 20 

1029 Armadale. By Wilkie Collins. 

2d half 20 

1030 The IMistress of Ibichstein. By 

Fr. Henkel 20 

1031 Irene’s Vow. By Charlotte M. 

Braeme, author of “Dora 
Thorne ” 20 

1032 Mignon’s Husband. By John 

Strange Winter 20 

1033 Esther: A Story for Girls. By 

Rosa Nouchelte Carey 20 

1034 The Silence of Dean Maitland. 

By Maxwell Gray 20 

1035 The Duchess. By “ The Duch- 

ess” 20 

1036 Like and Unlike. By Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

1037 Scheherazade: A London 

Night's Entertainment. By 
Florence Warden 20 

1038 Mistress and Maid. By Mi.ss 

Mulock 20 

1039 Driver Dallas. By John Strange 

Winter 10 

1040 Clarissa’s Ordeal. By the au- 

thor of “A Great Mistake.” 
First half 20 

1040 Clarissa’s Ordeal. By the au- 

thor of “ A Great Mistake.” 
Second half 20 

1041 Home Again. By George Mac- 

donald 20 

1042 Lady Grace. Mrs. Henry Wood 20 

1043 Faust. By Goethe 20 

1044 The Frozen Pirate. By W. 

Clark Russell 20 

1045 The 13th Hussars. By Emile 

Gaboriau 20 

1046 Jessie. By the author of “ Ad- 

die’s Husband ” 20 

1047 Marvel. By “The Duchess”.. 20 

1048 The Wreck of the “Grosvenor.” 

By W. Clark Russell 20 

1049 A Tale of Three IJons, and On 
Going Back. H. Rider Haggard 20 


THE SEASIDE LIBRAEY — Pocket Edition, 


19 


1050 The Tour of the World in 80 


Days. By Jules Verne 20 

1051 The Misadventures of John 

Nicholson. By Robert Louis 
Stevenson 10 

1052 Signa’s Sweetheart. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“Dora Thorne” 20 

1053 Young Mrs. Jardine. By Misg 

Mulock 20 

1054 Mona’s Choice. By Mrs. Alex- 

ander 20 

1055 Katharine Regina. By Walter 

Besant 20 

1056 The Bride of the Nile. By 

George Ebers. let half 20 

1056 The Bride of the Nile. By 

George Ebers. 2d half. 20 

1057 A Life Interest. By Mrs. Alex- 

ander 20 


1058 Masaniello ; or, The Fisherman 
of Naples. Alexander Dumas 20 


1059 Confessions of an English Opi- 

um-Eater, and The English 
Mail-Coach. By Thomas De 
Quincey 20 

1060 The Lady of the Lake. By Sir 

Walter Scott, Bart 20 

1061 A Queer Race : The Story of a 

Strange People. By William 
Westall 20 

1062 The Deerslayer; or, The First 

War-Path. By J. Fenimore 
Cooper. First half .. 20 

1062 The Deerslayer; or. The First 

War-Path. By J. Fenimore 
Cooper, Second Half 20 

1063 Kenilworth. By Sir Walter 

Scott, Bart. First half 20 

1063 Kenilworth. By Sir Walter 

Scott, Bart. Second half .... 20 

1064 Only the Governess. By Rosa 

Nouchette Carey 20 

1065 Herr Paulus: His Rise, His 

Greatness, and His Fall. By 
Walter Besant 20 

1066 My Husband and I. By Count 

Lyof Tolstoi 10 

1067 Saint Michael. By E. Werner. 

First half 20 

1067 Saint Michael. By E. Werner. 

Second half 20 

1068 Vendetta! or. The Story of One 

Forgotten. By Marie Corelli. 20 

1069 Polikouchka. By Count Lyof 

Tolstoi 10 

1070 A Life’s Mistake. By Mrs. H. 

Lovett Cameron 20 

1071 The Death of Ivan Iliitch. By 

Count Lyof Tolstoi 10 

1072 Only a Coral Girl. By Gertrude 

Forde 20 

1073 Two Generations. By Count 

Lyof Tolstoi 10 

1074 Stormy Waters. By Robert 

Buchanan 20 

1075 The Mystery of a Hansom Cab. 

By Fergus W. Hume 20 


1076 The Mystery of an Omnibus. 

By F. Du Boisgobey 20 

1077 The Nun’s Curse. By Mrs. J. 

H. Riddell 20 

1078 The Slaves of Paris— Blackmail 

By Emile Gaboriau. 1st half.. 20 

1078 The Slaves of Paris. — The 

Champdoce Secret. By Emile 
Gaboriau. 2d half 20 

1079 Beautiful Jim: of the Blank- 

shire Regiment. By John 
Strange Winter 20 

1080 Bertha’s Secret. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. 1st half 20 

lOSO Bertha’s Secret. By F. Du 
Boisgobey. 2d half 20 

1081 Too Curious. By Edward J. 

Goodman 20 

1082 The Severed Hand. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. 1st half 20 

1082 The Severed Hand. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. 2d half 20 

1083 The Little Old Man of the Bat- 

ignolles. By Emile Gaboriau 10 

1084 Chris. By W. E. Norris 20 

1085 The Matapan Affair. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. 1st half 20 

1085 The Matapan Affair. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. 2d half 20 

1086 Nora. By Carl Detlef 20 


1087 A Woman’s Face; or, A Lake- 

land Mystery. By F. Warden 20 

1088 The Old Age of Monsieur Le- 

coq. By F. Du Boisgobey. 1st 


half 20 

1088 The Old Age of Monsieur Le- 

coq. By F. Du Boisgobey. 2d 
half 20 

1089 Home Sounds. By E. Werner 20 

1090 The Cossacks. By Count Lyof 

Tolstoi 20 

1091 A Modern Cinderella. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme 10 

1092 A Glorious Gallop. By Mrs. 

Edward Kennard 20 

1093 In the Schillingscourt. By E. 

Marlitt 20 

1094 Homo Sum. By George Ebers. 20 

1095 The Legacy of Cain. By Wilkie 

Collins 20 

1096 The Strange Adventures of a 

House-Boat. William Black 20 

1097 The Burgomaster’s Wife. By 

George Ebers 20 

1098 The Fatal Three. By Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

1099 The Lasses of Leverhouse. By 

Jessie Fothergill 20 

1100 Mr. Meeson’s Will. By H Rider 

Haggard 20 

1101 An Egyptian Princess. Vol. I. 

By George Ebers 20 

1101 An Egyptian Princess. Vol. II. 

By George Ebers 20 

1102 Young Mr. Barter’s Repent- 

ance. By David Christie Mur- 
ray 10 

1103 The Honorable Mrs. Vereker. 

By *'The Duchess”.. ..•••••• 20 


20 


THE SEASn)E LTBR AH Y— Pocket Edition. 


1104 The Heir of Linne. By Rob- 

ert Buchanan 20 

1105 Maiwa’s Revenge. By H. Rider 

Haggard 20 

1106 The Emperor. By George 

Ebers 20 

1107 The Passenger from Scotland 

Yard. By H. F. Wood 20 

1108 Sebastopol. By Count Lyof 

Tolstoi 20 

1109 Through the Long Nights. By 

Mrs. E. Lynn Linton. 1st half 20 


1109 Through the Long Nights. By 

Mrs. E. Lynn Linton. 2d half 20 

1110 The Silverado Squatters. By 

Robert Louis Stevenson 10 

1111 In the Counselor’s House. By 

E. Marlitt 20 

1112 Only a Word. By George 

Ebers 20 

1113 The Bailiff’s Maid. By E. Mar- 

litt 20 

1114 The Sisters. By George Ebers. 20 

1115 The Countess Gisela. By E. 

Marlitt 20 

1116 Robert Elsmere. By Mrs. Hum- 

phry Ward. 1st half 20 

1116 Robert Elsmere. By Mrs. Hum- 

phry Ward. 2d half 20 

1117 Princess Sarah. By John S. 

Winter 10 

1118 The Elect Lady. By George 

IMacdonald 20 

1119 No Name. By Wilkie Collins. 

First half 20 

1119 No Name. By Wilkie Collins. 

Second half 20 

1120 The Story of an African Farm. 

By Ralph Iron (Olive Schrei- 
ner) 20 

1121 Booties’ Children. By John 

Strange Winter 10 

1122 Eve. By S. Baring-Gould 20 


1123 Under - Currents. By “ The 

Duchess” 20 

1124 Diana Barrington. By B. M. 

Croker 20 

1125 The Mvstery of a Turkish Bath. 

By “Rita” 10 

1126 Gentleman and Courtier. By 

Florence Marryat 20 

1127 Madam Midas. By Fergus W. 

Hume 20 

1128 Cousin Pons. By Honor6 De 

Balzac 20 

1129 The Flying Dutchman : or, The 

Death Ship. By W. Clark 
Russell 20 


1130 The Owl-House. By E. Marlitt 20 

1131 Thelma. By Marie Corellu 

First half 20 

1131 Thelma. By Marie Corelli. 

Second half 20 

1132 In Far Lochaber. By William 

Black 20 

1138 Our New Mistress; or, Changes 
at Brookfield Earl, By Char- 
lotte M. Yonge 20 


1134 Lord Elesmere’s Wife. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme. 1st half 20 

1134 Lord Elesmere’s Wife. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme. 2d half 20 

1135 Aunt Diana. By Rosa Noiu 

chette Carey 20 

1136 The Princess of the Moor. By 

E. Marlitt 20 

1137 Prince Charming. By the au- 
thor of “ A Great Mistake ”. . 20 

1138 A Recoiling Vengeance. By 

Frank Barrett 20 

1139 Tom Brown at Oxford. By 

Thomas Hughes. Vol. I 20 

1139 Tom Brown at Oxford. By 

Thomas Hughes. Vol. IT 20 

1140 Colonel Quaritch, V. C. By H. 

Rider Haggard 20 

1141 The Rogue. By W. E. Norris. 

First half 20 

1141 The Rogue. By W. E. Norris. 

Second half 20 

1142 Ten Thousand a Year. By 

Samuel Warren. Parr 1 20 

1142 Ten Thousand a Year. By 

Samuel Warren. Part II 20 

1142 Ten Thousand a Year. By 

Samuel Warren. Part HI... 20 

1143 The Inner House. By Walter 

Besant 20 

1144 Rienzi. By Sir E. Bulwer Lyt- 

ton. 1st half 20 

1144 Rienzi. By Sir E. Bulwer Lyt- 

ton. 2d half . . 20 

1145 My Fellow Laborer, and The 

Wreck of the “ Copeland.” 

By H. Rider Haggard 20 

1146 Rhoda Fleming. By George 

Meredith. 1st half 20 

1146 Rhoda Fleming. By George 

Meredith. 2d half 20 

1147 Knight-Errant. ByEdnaLyall. 

1st half. 20 

1147 Knight-Errant. ByEdnaLyall. 

2d half 20 

1148 The Countess Eve. By J, H. 

Shorthouse 20 


1149 Donovan: A Modern English- 
man. By Edna Lyall. 1st half 20 

1149 Donovan : A Modern English- 

man. By Edna Lyall. 2d half 20 

1150 The Egoist. By George Mere- 


dith. 1st half 20 

1150 The Egoist. By George Mere- 

dith. 2d half 20 

1151 For Faith and Freedom. By 

Walter Besant. 1st half 20 

1151 For Faith and Freedom. By 

Walter Besant. 2d half 20 

1152 From the Earth to the Moon. 

By Jules Verne. Illustrated. 20 

1153 Round the Moon. By Jules 

Verne. Illustrated 20 

1154 A Judgment of God. By E. 

Werner 20 

1155 Lured Away; or. The Story of 

a Wedding - Ring, and The 
Heiress of Arne. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme 2Q 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY -Pocket Edition. 

Always TJiiclian^etl and lJiia1n*idg:ed. 

■WITH HANDSOME LITHOaHAPHED PAPER COVER. 


r.ATEST ISSUES: 


NO. PRICIC. 

669 Pole on Wliist 20 

432 THE WITCH’S HEAD. By 
H. Rider Haf!:g:ard 20 

1136 The Princess of the Moor. By 

E. Marlitt 20 

1137 Prince Charming. By the au- 

thor of “A Great Mistake . 20 

1138 A Recoiling Vengeance. By 

Frank Barrett 20 

1139 Tom Brown at Oxford. By 

Thomas Hughes. Vol. I 20 

1139 Tom Brown at Oxford. By 

Thomas Hughes. Vol. IT.... 20 

1140 Colonel Quaritch, V. C. By H. 

Rider Haggard 20 

1141 The* Rogue. By W. E. Norris. 

First half 20 

1141 The Rogue. By W. E. Norris. 

Second half 20 

1142 Ten Thousand a Year. By 

Samuel Warren. Parr 1 20 

1142 Ten Thousand a Year. By 

Samuel Warren. Part II 20 

1142 Ten Thousand a Year. By 

Samuel Warren. Part III... 20 

1143 The Inner House. By Walter 

Besant 20 

1144 Rienzi. By Sir E. Bulwer Lyt- 

ton. 1st half 20 

1144 Rienzi. By Sir E. Bulwer Lyt- 

ton. 2d half 20 

1145 My Fellow Laborer, and The 

Wreck of the “ Copeland.” 

By H. Rider Haggard 20 

1146 Rhoda Fleming. By George 

Meredith. 1st half.’ 20 

1146 Rhoda Fleming. By George 

Meredith. 2d half 20 

1147 Knight-EiTant. ByEdnaLyall. 

1st half 20 

^147 Knight-Errant. By Edna Lyall. 

2d half 20 

1148 The Countess Eve. By J. H. 

Shorthouse 20 

1149 Donovan: A Modern English- 

man. By Edna Lyall. Igt half 20 

1149 Donovan : A Modern English- 
man. By Edna Lyall. 2d half 20 

1150 The Egoist. By George Mere- 
dith. 1st half 20 

1150 The Egoist. By George Mere- 
dith. 2d half 20 


NO. PRICE. 

1151 For Faith and Freedom. By 
Walter Besant. 1st half 20 

1151 For Faith and Freedom. By 

Walter Besant. 2d half 20 

1152 From the Earth to the Moon. 

By Jules Verne. Illustrated. 20 

1153 Round the Moon. By Jules 

Verne. Illustrated 20 

1154 A Judgment of God. By E. 

Werner 20 

1155 Lured Away; or, The Story of 

a Wedding - Ring, and The 
Heiress of Arne. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme 20 

1156 A Witch of the Hills. By Flor- 
ence Warden 20 

1157 A Two Years’ Vacation. Illus- 
trated. By Jules Verne 20 

1158 My Poor Dick. By J. S. Winter. 10 

1159 Mr. Fortescue. An Andean 
Romance. By Wm. Westall. 20 

1160 We Two. By Edna Lyall. 1st 

half 20 

1160 We Two. ByEdnaLyall. 2d 

half 20 

1161 Red Ryvington, By William 

Westall. 1st half 20 

1161 Red Ryvington. By William 

Westall. 2d half 20 

1162 The Weaker Vessel. By David 

Christie Murray 20 

1163 The Phantom City. A Volcanic 
Romance. By Wm. Westall. 20 

1164 Rob Roy. By Sir Walter Scott, 

Bart. 1st half 20 

1164 Rob Roy. By Sir Walter Scott, 

Bart. 2d half 20 

1165 The Sea-King. By Captain 

Marryat 20 

1168 The Flight to France; or, The 
Memoirs of a Dragoon. A 
Tale of the Day of Dumouriez. 

By Jules Verne 20 

1169 Commodore Junk. By G. Man- 

ville Fenn 20 

1173 Won by Waiting. By Edna 

Lyall 20 

1174 The Polish Princess. By 1. 1. 

Kraszewski 20 

1175 A Tale of an Old Castle. By 

W. Heimburg 20 

1176 Guilderoy. By “Ouida” 20 

A handsome catalogue containing complete and classified lists of all George 
Munro's publications will he mailed to any address on receipt of iO cents. 

The foregoing works, contained in Thk Skasidk Library, Pocket Edition, 
are for sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to any address, postage free, on 
receipt of 12 cents for single numbers, and 25 cents for double numbers. 
Parties ordering by mail will please order by numbers. Address 

GEORGE MUNKO, Munro’s Publishing House, 

P. O. Box 3751. 17 to 27 Vandewater Street, N. Y. 




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